


Compromised - Book 3

by ivanolix



Series: The Compromised Trilogy [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Planet, Alliances, Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Canon - TV, Families of Choice, Family, Female Anti-Hero, Female Character In Command, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Gen, Identity Issues, POV Alternating, Reconciliation, Season/Series 02, Symbiotic Relationship, Teamwork, Undercover, Women Being Awesome, Wordcount: Over 50.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-17
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Compromised - Book 2, and conclusion to The Compromised Trilogy. Sam and Jolinar escape the ashrak, but leave the SGC in a lurch and themselves with all the cards stacked against them in a hostile galaxy. This is 95% gen, but brief attention is paid to canon marriages. AU off In the Line of Duty. Sam and team centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Infirmaries

_  
Mai’tac—Lantash, what happened?_

I do not know, Larys; they were trying to escape when I found them.

If they were awake then, it increases their chances.

Increases?

Lantash, you must wait outside, Samantha and Jolinar need urgent care.

...

Rosha is coming, Jolinar, and she will ask once more.

I cannot give up.

And I cannot bring you down with me. The Jaffa will be on her heels, and you must leave. You must survive and return to our people.

All three of us may yet escape, Elista—we are still strong.

Not enough, Jolinar. Not enough.

I am Tok’ra. I do not use my host as an escape.

You are Tok’ra, and so you do what your host wishes, and the rest is for the good of all. I am not asking, Jolinar, I am telling. If you resist more, I will use all your guilt against you—please, Jolinar, do not push me to that. You must leave.

I—

Rosha is coming. Accept her offer, and live.

Then was all this torment for nothing?

It was for the good of the Tok’ra, that you will carry till your dying day.

And what of my promise to you, Elista?

Fulfilled, Jolinar. Now leave, before I must face my death knowing I condemned you. Do not watch. I do not want your last memory of me to be of guilt. Go!

...

She is not in a coma, nor even fully unconscious. Our devices are giving us trouble.

Larys, do not look at us like that...

Martouf, Lantash, you must not hold on so tightly. Nothing is certain yet. She is weak and gravely injured, but above all a poison runs through Jolinar. Quetesh has given her something not deadly to symbiotes, but something much worse. It keeps her from healing and what has now seeped into Samantha’s veins reacts strongly against our healing device. If we try, it will certainly kill her.

So then—

If they live, it will be on their own power. Jolinar’s system is overcoming the poison, if slowly, and Samantha’s body is slowly working towards a natural healing. I do not know if we can give them enough strength to finish, but they are not dying yet.

How long until...something certain is known?

Long enough that you will need rest, and more than you get by their bedside. Martouf, rest. You are not the only one concerned. At least Selmak is wise enough to know when it does more harm to wallow in worry.

...

Is the pain temporary?

Oh, Rosha—oh, no.

Then you must live as if it doesn’t touch us, or we may as well not live.

That is impossible.

Then pretend it is not. Let’s just pretend that nothing is impossible, Jolinar.

And when it is, Rosha?

We’ll know it then, and it won’t matter what we know. But for now, I want us to succeed. We will succeed.

Until I lose you too.

I’m not going any time soon, Jolinar. And if that’s all you’re going to think for that time, then it’s going to be a downer the whole way. We can do anything, Jolinar. Just push away the pain, and live. Live.  
  
...

Past and present blurred in a cloud, the accompaniment to Sam and Jolinar’s fight with death. They couldn’t consciously know what it was, even as their minds sought the memories that only seemed random. All they could do was fight, figuratively back to back, all weapons at hand, warring the specter of death that grabbed at them with no break.

ooooooo

“It’s been a week and a half,” said Thomas, circles under his eyes. He was sitting farthest from the gate.

Matthews ignored him, jaw set as he dialed the Alpha Site again. “Two weeks, Thomas. That’s the deadline.”

The campsite on P3X-808 lay in disarray. At first they’d tried to keep it neat, with little else to do. But even Daniel started to go mad with the busywork, and now it was all the waiting game. Wait long enough that the leaders on the Alpha Site would give them what they needed—something to do.

Lewis flicked rocks on the ground with his toe. SG-6 was all required to be by the gate at every update, just in case there was some urgent mission. Sha’re and Shifu still slept in her and Daniel’s tent, as Sha’re had tried to do for the past few days. Shifu did not change his behavior just because Earth might be destroyed, but with nothing else on the schedule, Sha’re could steal her hours of sleep at many more times.

Daniel paced, knowing that Dr. Donald was watching him and annoyed, but needing something to do. He couldn’t sit like the rest of them.

Finally the wormhole engaged, and Matthews sent his GDO signal in for verification.

The answer was loud enough for them all to hear on the radio._ “Oh thank god you’ve contacted this early. Good news, SG-6. We’re going home.”_

Everyone’s head jerked up, and Daniel almost tripped as his step caught. He stared at the gate, watched as Matthews opened his mouth to speak, closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Say again, Alpha Site?”  
_  
“We just had contact with Earth.”_

“Yes!” Lewis jumped to his feet, punching the air.

Daniel felt his breath catch in his chest, the tension leaving his limbs.

“Really?” Matthews asked, after he had to clear his throat again.  
_  
“Yes sir. If you’ll just come through, it’s kind of a long story, or so we hear.”  
_  
“Absolutely,” said Matthews. He put the radio down, turning to the group. “Gather your basic things; we can leave the major clean-up for later.” A wide grin framed his broad face. “We’re going home, guys.”

Daniel found his brain, and made his way the few steps back to the camp swiftly. The tent door opened before he got there, and Sha’re poked her head out, hair all askew.

“What is it?” she asked.

Daniel swept her in his arms. “Earth isn’t destroyed,” he whispered in her hair.

“Oh Daniel,” she breathed out, squeezing him close.

“We’re going to the Alpha Site to hear the news, right now,” said Daniel. “Can you come?”

“I will just pick up Shifu,” Sha’re said, smiling brightly for the first time in at least a week.

Daniel let her go, following her in the tent to grab the bag that had Shifu’s things in it. He turned around, and there was Sha’re with Shifu whining tiredly in the blanket in her arms. He put his arm around her shoulder, and they walked quickly to the gate. The rest of SG-6 was through, but Matthews had waited for them.

“Today was our lucky day,” he said, grinning.

And with that, they walked through together.

ooooooo

Jolinar woke first, if it could be called waking. Her mind found the sensations of reality instead of the surreality of the dreamworld. Not a memory, not a dream. She thought she might regret it as soon as she felt pain, but she didn’t.

She felt her body well-supported by pillows, the soft feel of bandages over the wounds she could remember. She breathed in, felt the pull on the stab wound, and felt the tightness of the healing wound on her face. But it was a low throb, barely there. The burn and buzz of the torture stick and the poison were almost gone, and she felt the splints on her fingers, resting just to the side of her stomach. Her mouth wasn’t dry, and she didn’t feel starving somehow.

Her eyes didn’t want to open, and she tried to look for Samantha. She was still asleep, and for all her protesting, Jolinar knew that Sam had taken the harder beating. Jolinar knew what she was expecting, and if it was worse it was only because she couldn’t heal anything. Even the hara’kash, though designed to hurt her alone, had been nothing she wasn’t able to foretell. But Samantha had not only been unscathed by this in the past, she had borne a heavier burden as Jolinar lay almost unconnected. She’d fought with every last strand, and Jolinar didn’t know how to appreciate such effort.

She could feel her host still deep in exhausted slumber, and Jolinar felt the pull herself. This moment of euphoric lessening of pain was an illusion, and Jolinar could feel the deep damages still remaining. She hadn’t fought back the poison enough to heal.

This time she welcomed the darkness to cover her and Samantha, let them heal in the oblivion. Just before she lost reality again, without opening her eyes, she heard and felt someone by her side. Was it her mate, his worry overcoming his duty? It was nothing she hadn’t done in the recent past, but part of her did not want to be so selfish as to accept it here. But perhaps it was her host’s father, and Selmak, and that was almost as comforting a thought.

Sleep took her again, and she felt secure in it.

ooooooo

Daniel breathed in the scent of the gateroom as he stepped through to the SGC, more than two weeks since he’d last been there. McKay stood waiting for him.

“Good to see, Rodney,” said Daniel, putting a hand to the man’s shoulder as he descended the ramp, Sha’re on his other side.

“Yeah, well, I have a hard time understanding what it’s been for you,” McKay said, not flinching under the touch. “Two weeks, really?”

“Believe me, I counted every day,” said Daniel. “Jack and Dixon?”

“Teal’c’s keeping watch,” said McKay, beckoning towards the hall. “They should be up soon, though.”

“I’m still confused,” Daniel admitted as they walked. “All I heard was that everything was fine, damaged but fine. And because of a black hole here?”

“No, no, no,” McKay corrected. “The black hole was not here. That’s a, impossible, and b, inescapable.”

Daniel smiled. “Yes, I know that. That’s why it was confusing.”

“Ah, good,” said McKay. “I’ve had to correct so many idiotic assumptions...no, the black hole was only putting some of its effects through the gate. Enough to pull us all in, but not enough to destroy the gate. Neither is a shape charge, also.”

“How did you figure to use that?” Daniel asked. “Do I even know what a shape charge is?”

“Probably not,” said McKay lightly. “But you don’t need to. It was my idea—well, Jean helped a bit, but it wasn’t hard to see that the military was wrong. It was just finding out what was right. Do you know they thought the self-destruct would help?”

“I don’t think I was told that,” said Daniel, thinking. “So our way home really was on the line—we guessed something other than a black hole, but still.”

 They entered the recovery area of the infirmary and Daniel saw Jack and Dixon. He hadn’t been too concerned, after he’d been urged to relax so many times, but it was good to have visual proof that things weren’t too bad.

“So Jack and Dixon stayed to blow it up?” Daniel asked, more quietly as they joined Teal’c by their comrades’ sides.

“Oh no,” said McKay. “The general wouldn’t let Dixon go, since he’s got a family. It was Jack and some military guy he knew who did die. Dixon was knocked out by a flying bit of metal drawn to the gate, as we made our way out of the mountain.”

Daniel couldn’t help a smile at that.

Sha’re leaned over to him. “Dan’yel, I wish to get Shifu to sleep.”

“Go ahead, I’ll wait here,” Daniel answered, nodding. “If they wake up, I’ll call you back.”

“Thank you for saving our lives, Doctor,” said Sha’re on her way out, almost a playful look on her grateful smile.

McKay took it straight, pausing with his mouth half open. “Uh, sure. It was my planet at stake, you know.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not all grateful to you and Jean,” said Daniel honestly. “We really thought Earth might be lost.”

“Well, it could be if we ever try to contact that planet again,” said McKay. “We calculated that it will be years before the time dilation makes it so that the planet is actually destroyed.”

“So that gate address is off limits,” said Daniel.

McKay gave him a look. “Yeah.”

“Do you know what the Pentagon thinks of the whole thing?” Daniel asked, realizing the greater issues. Earth had almost been destroyed. That wasn’t really acceptable in the new status quo.

McKay shrugged. “Can’t really know.”

“Captain Carlsworth seemed most appreciative,” commented Teal’c, his first words since their arrival.

 Daniel glanced to him. “Who?”

“Oh him,” McKay said, smirking. “Some young military aide, said that the time dilation meant that the base wasn’t using resources for those two weeks, and that budget cut should make up for the near-Earth-destruction thing.”

Daniel smiled again.

“Daniel?” Jack’s voice came, slightly cracked but questioning all the same.

Daniel and McKay turned to the bed.

“Hey Jack,” said Daniel. He smiled at the Colonel’s slightly incredulous face. “Did I miss anything?”

The facetiousness brought Jack back to reality. “I made it?”

“Yes, yes, you did,” said McKay. “Teal’c here pulled you out in time.”

Jack let the words sink in for a second. “Thanks,” he said, looking to Teal’c.

“You are welcome,” said Teal’c simply.

“It worked, by the way,” said McKay. “The energy jumped gates after the shape charge went off, and we shut off the gate. Oh, and it’s been two weeks for everyone else.”

Daniel was slightly amused to see that hit Jack more than the rest. Jack let his head plop back on the pillow. “Two weeks. I think I’ll sleep in, okay?”

McKay shared a look with Daniel, who nodded. “Well,” the scientist said, “you’re going to have to do something while we install the new trinium-enhanced iris.”

Daniel blinked. “Wait, new iris?”

“Oh, did you miss that?” McKay asked.

“The black hole sucked in our iris, man,” said Dixon from the other bed.

“Ah, you’re awake too,” said McKay. “Good, good. But it didn’t literally suck—that’s not really the way to describe the pull of gravity.”

“Listen, I just woke up,” said Dixon, a bandage around his head giving him the war hero look. “Let me go back to sleep before you go off on science, okay? Science almost killed me.”

McKay rolled his eyes, but shut his mouth.

“I should check on Sha’re, then,” said Daniel. The information, though relieving, was quite a shock to him. He wondered if Sha’re would need McKay to explain more about the black hole—then again, she might have learned that already. And they needed a new iris. That was something else.

“Crisis over, back to being shortchanged,” said McKay with a sigh, following Daniel out of the infirmary. Teal’c stayed behind, something Daniel found momentarily fascinating. “Then again, we do have a mission in a week and a half.”

Daniel shrugged. Earth was safe—what else mattered in the end?

ooooooo

Sam started to wake, not with the feeling of restfulness, but with a heavy weariness in her very core. And yet, it was better than before—that was wrong, but somehow comforting.

She found Jolinar immediately, sleeping less soundly and waking immediately. Sam felt instantly how much more whole she was, and the renewed connection made even the weariness acceptable.  
_  
~Are we okay?~ _she asked.  
_  
*We are moving that way,*_ Jolinar said, the thin quality of her voice on Quetesh’s ship gone, and the fullness back, even if the vitality was still just out of reach. _*Quetesh did not fully damage me; I am nearly returned to normal function, if not health.*  
_  
A bit of the weariness seemed to dissipate the longer Sam was awake. She sighed inwardly, relieved that it was not just a hope and a dream. _~Jolinar?~_

*Hmm?*

~I’m sorry for all this.~ Sam didn’t know why it had come to her now, before she was even fully awake. But somehow she remembered that they had only found Quetesh on Sam’s desire, for Sha’re’s sake, and that was all because of Sam too.

There was a pause, but it was one of incredulity._ *I would not have had it any other way, not were worlds offered.*  
_  
Sam took a deep breath, a certain freeness in her lungs at that. Some pain was gone, but also the tension. _~I missed you there for a while,~_ she admitted.  
_  
*Likewise,*_ Jolinar said simply.

A lump rose in Sam’s throat, but she wasn’t strong enough to focus on this yet. Whatever this was, whatever they had just escaped together. Whatever wasn’t resolved simply by running away. Sam was fully awake, and now her mind drifted to things physical.

There was a soft light beyond her closed eyelids, but she didn’t want to open them yet. She went through her body mentally, feeling each part and limb, and gingerly assessing the resting pain. Most of the stinging and burning from the superficial cuts was gone, now that they were covered and felt to be healed. Her hand was stabilized so that no involuntary twitch would give her pain.

And then she noticed her face. She breathed through her nose, but even the little muscle movements felt tight, pulling against the cut. _~That will scar,~ _she thought, envisioning the stitches-like bandage that would be needed to hold it together. Jolinar didn’t understand immediately, and it only took Sam a second to realize why and be confused on her own. Wait, scarring? She could just barely recall her first arrival here, and the healing device that had dealt with almost everything in minutes.  
_  
*Something must be wrong,*_ thought Jolinar with a small surge of worry. She couldn’t feel what it might be.

Something was teasing at Sam’s memory, something that told her she should probably know the answer. Had she heard it, or guessed it? Why couldn’t she remember now?

She noticed her brow wrinkling by the tightness increasing on her face, and she immediately smoothed it out. That still hurt. She and Jolinar heard a rustle by their side, and then a gentle brushing touch on her arm that thankfully didn’t hurt.

Her eyelids flickered, and the light wasn’t too much, so she barely squinted as she opened them. Above her, the familiar crystal of Tok’ra ceilings. Beneath her, the soft supporting comfort of their infirmary beds. And as her peripheral vision cleared, there was a face she’d always be happy to see.

“Samantha?” Martouf asked hesitantly, as if even a noise might damage her.

Her eyes almost closed as she had to hold back and not smile. Her lips barely moved, but she could speak. “Martouf.”

His touch strayed from her arm to her bandaged hand as he sat by her right side. She couldn’t feel it there, but the knowledge was enough.

“Jolinar and I—we are alive,” she said, voice small as she was careful to shape the words. Her head almost started to throb at the sudden sound, but not quite.

“After much worrying on our parts, I think we finally believe that,” Martouf said, the hint of a weary smile on his face.

Sam needed a deeper breath after her words, and before she could speak again. “Why are we not healed?” she asked, frustratingly unable to speak at barely more than a whisper.

Jolinar was at the back of her mind, slowly examining the underpinnings of this health, looking for the answer in all the clues. But she hadn’t found one, and waited with Sam for an answer.

“The poison you were given,” said Martouf, brow creasing as his hand gently covered hers. “When we tried to use the healing device, the reaction was disastrous. We could have lost you both from that alone, had we continued. All we could do was provide the nutrients and hope that your strength, Samantha, would carry you until the poison was defeated by Jolinar.”

That sounded vaguely familiar, but more, it made sense. Jolinar had not felt this weary since she recovered from the Blood of Sokar, and even though Sam had more experience with a continual weakness, somehow she had grown to expect something else in these past four months. No healing device, and Jolinar said that she could tell her own healing powers were not restored to her yet, which explained the rest.

But then—Sam’s mouth turned in the slightest bit of a frown, all she could manage without courting pain. They were somewhat healed, she could feel it. If that was all her own body’s doing... “How long have we slept?”

“Four days,” said Lantash, and they had not noticed the change.

Their minds reeled—had it been that bad?

Lantash noticed the surprise in her face. “Samantha, you and Jolinar were traversing a very thin line between life and death,” he said, looking her in the eye. There was the deep pain of long worry in there. “It is testament to your strength that you have even awakened this much.”

Jolinar could comprehend it now, and Sam was starting to. But almost two weeks. It had been almost two weeks since Quetesh had come to Dorieth. And at that word, she felt an involuntary tension, almost a shudder running through her. No, she couldn’t even think it yet. She closed her eyes for a second, and let Jolinar come forward. She seemed to understand this more.

Jolinar didn’t think it, but in a way Sam understood just from the emotions that she remembered what she’d told Sam in that prison cell. About the time she’d wanted to keep hidden. The long recovery, that had never been fully completed, only abandoned and brushed over for the sake of living a semi-normal life. Jolinar knew that there was much similar here, even if she’d only realized it now.

“My love,” she murmured. Lantash smiled, and bent to brush a light kiss to her forehead. “What now?” she asked.

“Now I let Selmak and Samantha’s father free from their worry,” Lantash said. “That is all the now you need.”

And Jolinar knew that. It had been an automatic question, borne of duty, but she couldn’t feel it. She wasn’t strong enough yet.  
_  
~My father,~_ thought Sam, suddenly remembering. All those days, and she’d never once considered what would happen to him if she hadn’t made it. For all that she’d expected it, she never truly comprehended what it meant.  
_  
*And now, it is not easy to accept as an idea,*_ Jolinar said quietly.

They were not so ready to give up life. Assuming they found it again—for now they needed to survive, fully.

Jolinar’s eyelids started to droop. “Thank you,” she murmured, not knowing till know how much she’d wanted for them to be saved.

“For failing until the last moment?” Jolinar heard Lantash’s words, even if her eyes were almost closed so that she did not see his face. “I cannot accept it.”

The lump settled firmly in Jolinar’s throat, and it was far too much emotion to handle now. But she felt loved and safe, and for the moment she had no duty to consider. As she and Sam survived, they could accept this love with no distractions.

Jolinar swallowed, as the love she felt was the last impression on her mind as she fell into healing sleep again. She barely even noticed that Sam’s love was with hers, and Sam’s confusing thoughts on that fact completely escaped her.


	2. Readjustments

Jolinar crowded Sam’s mind, the memories and feelings closer than Sam’s own, if that was even possible. What they’d shared called back to what they had not, and Sam heard stories of war torture veterans as Jolinar confused them with what she’d experienced, or had she done that on prisoners so long ago?

These non-dreams rose to a point, just as they woke. For a moment they hadn’t regained sense of their own body, only that a hand rested on their shoulder. Flashes of Quetesh’s patience filled their mind, and Sam flinched from the touch with a sharp intake of breath. The tensing of her muscles hurt.

“Sam?”

It was not Quetesh’s voice, not even a Goa’uld voice. Sam’s eyes had automatically snapped open, but now she saw.

“Dad,” she exhaled raggedly, closing her eyes again. His hand still lay on her shoulder, but she remembered where she was, and it didn’t frighten her.

Jolinar shook herself free, settling back in their consciousness to see if she could yet heal.

“Nightmares?” Jacob asked.

Sam opened her eyes again, swallowing the metallic taste of panic in the back of her throat. “Yes,” she said.

He rubbed her shoulder gently. “Oh kid, I’m sorry,” he said, voice raw with understanding.

Sam couldn’t remember him referencing his military past like that, and for a moment it was a welcome distraction. Maybe it was Selmak, though, and Jolinar wondered if it could be both. She was recovered enough to start healing—just a fraction of what she could do before, but for now it was something she could do. And the slow knitting of skin and muscle back together, a tiny tingle of sensation behind everything else, felt familiar and soothing to Sam.

“I’m out of the worst, aren’t I?” Sam asked, her voice still shaky as it took more strength than it should.

“That you are,” Jacob said, then cleared his throat of the apparent catch in it. “Not that there was any doubt,” he added.

Sam smiled, and would have rolled her eyes at the plain facade of confidence. The new worry lines by his eyes, and the protective touch of his hand, spoke the truth.

Jolinar focused on the healing, keeping her mind from thinking about all that had happened. All that came quickly to Sam’s mind. “The mission failed,” she said, her heart sinking. All that trouble and worry and apprehension for nothing.

Looking up, she saw Jacob shake his head lightly. “No,” he said. He nodded once towards her, “You did your part, and the mission goes on. Quetesh did not suspect it.”

Sam felt her heart start to beat at that name, and her desire barely formed before Jolinar was doing what she did best, smoothing it down, calming her physical reactions. “Martouf and Lantash?” she asked, a bit of a croak as her throat was dry.

“Hold on,” Jacob said. He reached over to the bedside table, taking a cup in one hand and slipping his hand from her shoulder to her back.

She needed all the support as he lifted her just enough to sip the drink. It wasn’t water, but something cool and rich-flavored. Jolinar guessed that it was a simple form of food, all their weakened body could handle, not even taking into account the forced fast that had done nothing good for their digestive system. The drink went down smoothly, and cleared her throat. Sam looked back to Jacob for the answer to her question.

“They are not here at the moment,” Selmak said, coming forward. “As soon as you woke, Larys managed to assure them that there would be no retreat from what progress you made. They went to Dorieth as their mission demanded, organizing what the planet had become since Coron’s departure. Quetesh did not see fit to leave another Jaffa in command, but Lantash’s role is only to prepare it for another lieutenant. He is highly prized in Quetesh’s court.”

That was a relief, especially to Jolinar, as Selmak let them lie back against the pillow again. Their mistake had not harmed the ultimate goal, nor another’s cover. Sam nodded gently, understanding.

“I could have guessed that this mission would be difficult on them, with little recent experience,” Selmak continued. “But the personal aspects were not fully taken into account. Still, Lantash is surprisingly stalwart when necessary. He has dealt well with this trial.”

“I’m only momentarily surprised,” Sam said in a low tone, expressing Jolinar’s thought as well as her own.

“I should not be saying this,” Selmak said, his voice quieter as he leaned in closer. “But Jacob and I do not think this a disaster. We feared for your safety as you pushed further; as despicable as these events have been, we could foresee the loss of your life. Anything short of that is relief to us.”

Jolinar’s attention was caught for a moment by that, and she couldn’t not agree. For all that it seemed like she and Sam felt like they could cheat death, somewhere deep down Jolinar always assumed that she’d die. And it came as a surprise to Sam.  
_  
*I shouldn’t,* _Jolinar said._ *I do not try to.*  
_  
Sam said nothing, just tipped her head to the side, resting it on Selmak’s hand as it still lay on her shoulder. _~And now?~_

*I want to live.*

Sam closed her eyes as Jolinar returned to healing, putting forth all the limited strength she had.

ooooooo

Jolinar supposed that the reason everyone went to such care for her and Sam was precisely because she did not openly object. Were she well, she knew she would fester beneath it. But she had neither the strength, nor in this case the desire. Her people had never been demonstrative or smothering, as had frustrated Sam—in this case, however, the Tok’ra were out of their element and it was a worrisome development. Even so, only Larys was noticeably careful, apart from family.

Jolinar’s healing abilities were now more clearly returning. Nothing troubled her in regards to internal injuries now, and most of the small wounds were down to scars. Perhaps one day she would get to those as well, if her strength ever did return that far. She did not hide from Sam that some things could be permanent. And she didn’t mean memories.

Larys had them sitting up in bed the second day. Martouf and Lantash had returned for a short check-up, and in the midst of the clouds still in her and Sam’s mind, she wanted to soothe their mind. And so she’d cooperated, eating solid food and answering Larys’ questions and even taking a couple steps to show that she could. Some of the worry faded from Martouf’s face, and she knew they would go back to their mission better for it.

As the lights dimmed in the approximation of night on the Tok’ra base, though, Jolinar curled up in the hospital bed, alone with Sam in the dusk, and had to control her breathing to keep it steady and even. Quetesh’s cell had not had lights, and the glow had glinted off many edges just the same. It took many hours to convince their unconscious mind to accept that.

By the third day, most of the pain itself was gone. Jolinar had half her strength back, and Larys stopped his concern. Dorin seemed interested still, but even Sam had no words for her. They didn’t talk about the phantom pain, the assumption that every move would hurt, the ginger way they touched their own skin. And the times they would wake up from a dream, and the reality of the dream still held and they felt the torture as if it was fresh.

Sam learned to swallow her cries to avoid answering the questions at night. If her father or Selmak guessed that there were more nightmares, neither said anything. Jolinar was too familiar to want any talk on it. _*They will fade when we are ready,*_ she told Sam.

It sounded easy, wise, resigned. Instead, Jolinar knew for once why Sam used words to frame the reality she wanted, which was not always what reality they existed in.

Sam felt the helplessness of the fourth night, and she didn’t want to stop her heart from beating. Jolinar had started on her broken hand and the healing wound on her face. At first curled on her side in fetal position, eyes shut as she looked for sleep, she felt Jolinar’s healing routine. Felt how weak it still was. Felt how it gave her mind something to concentrate on, something wearyingly dull that eventually would lull her to sleep.

Sam needed that. She struggled to her feet and started to pace the small room, eyes on the floor in front of each step. Her broken hand she still cradled to her chest, and it was difficult to stand straight when she remembered feeling stabbed in the gut. The neural damage, minor but obtrusive, gave the occasional jerk to her movements. Nothing went smoothly yet, even if the pain was gone.

Step by step, Sam walked, her bare feet touching the cool stone of the floor. No one saw and no one heard, just Jolinar. She moved, and Jolinar healed, and they could focus on this and appreciate what power they had. The longer she walked, the less steady her steps became. Her breathing itself started to jerk up a little.

She sat back down on the bed, feeling a bit of a chill. They weren’t recovered yet. No one needed to tell her that. She slid back under the blankets, and focused on Jolinar’s healing. She couldn’t experience it the same way, but in that moment she was too tired to do anything but accept it as a shared experience.

She fell asleep with the feeling of things fitting back together.

ooooooo

Daniel walked into his lab and saw Sha’re sitting on the low stool she’d appropriated from before. Her legs crossed, a large book resting between them, her finger marking her place as she read across the pages.

“Nefer,” Daniel said, using an  Abydonian word because “love” or god-forbid “honey” just made him feel silly. He needed to mean what he said.

“Mm, yes?” Sha’re didn’t look up from her book.

“Our child?” Daniel asked, sitting at his desk and pulling the computer from its sleep.

“With Teal’c,” Sha’re answered, still reading.

Daniel blinked. “Oh?”

“He said there has been little for him to do, with so few missions,” Sha’re said, this time looking up to him. “As it is true for me also, we have come to an arrangement.”

“Ah,” said Daniel. He had noticed how much Sha’re had been teaching herself lately, and the way she occasionally seemed to encourage Teal’c likewise. But it had not occurred to him to think of making the leap to assuming a cooperative relationship. “So where are they?” he asked curiously, before pulling up his research.

 “In Colorado Springs with Major Dixon,” Sha’re said, looking back to her book.

“What?” Daniel asked, this time thoroughly surprised.

“Teal’c wished to learn how to ‘shop’,” Sha’re said with a shrug. “And Major Dixon needed to run an errand for his wife, so Teal’c said he would purchase more of those cotton diapers for Shifu.”

Daniel smiled as he glanced down. Poor Dave—that would probably be quite an experience. A good one, though, he hoped.

Sha’re looked up at Daniel’s clock, something she had only learned how to do with some awkwardness. “Such flight of time!” she exclaimed, standing up.

“You have somewhere to be?” Daniel asked as she put the book on stool.

 “Jean has been working with me,” Sha’re said, smiling as she walked to the door. “Your government has approved that she work more with genetics, and also to find a way to let others operate Goa’uld technology without becoming hosts.”

“Wow, that’s ambitious,” said Daniel. Not surprising, though, given the advantage that such research would have for the military alone. “Have...fun, I suppose?”

“I will, Dan’yel,” said Sha’re, and she left with a smile.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar returned to their own chamber finally. Jolinar’s healing powers were as close to normal as it seemed likely they would go. With a bit of delay and a slight lessening in strength still remaining, everyone among the Tok’ra recognized the potency of Quetesh’s inhibitor.

Jolinar hardly cared at this point and wanted to get away. Healed as they were, she needed them to be back to their old physical condition, and the first step was disassociation from the infirmary. This room was a comforting place, sparse and calm.

Martouf and Lantash came back for another short visit. The two pairs sat together on the bed in Sam and Jolinar’s chamber, facing each other but not quite looking up. Martouf held Jolinar’s hand, silent for a few moments.

“I have heard that you are succeeding,” she said quietly.

Martouf nodded. “I have heard likewise.”

“We will always succeed,” said Jolinar, referring to herself and Sam.

Martouf smiled, almost pained. “Then I do not know why we worry,” he said.

Jolinar barely smiled in answer. She squeezed Martouf’s hand and leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder. He sighed, not quite holding her, but letting one hand rest securely on her back. Lantash did not speak during this encounter, and Sam did not either. There was no need, when words were not even being honest. None of them liked the worry.

Some time later, Martouf kissed Jolinar’s hair, and then rose. Duty called him again. Jolinar sat for a while after he left, thinking of nothing. Sam thought of family and recovery, and how one sometimes helped and sometimes hindered the other. In essence, she thought of nothing too.

Being reminded of what still moved instead of stagnating, though, sparked that purpose in Jolinar that she had been searching for. Sam felt it a moment later, as Jolinar breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with good air. Healing had come, now there was only restoration.

Standing, and feeling the life in their veins, Jolinar left her chamber. She did not go to the infirmary, nor to Jacob and Selmak. Down past many tunnels, far from the normal traffic of the Tok’ra community, Jolinar sought the physical training facility. It was not often used, given the assignments and natural powers of a symbiote. But Sam and Jolinar’s nerves had forgotten for a while how to function, and their muscles had been equally confused. Now it was time to bring them back into order.

Sam expected a punching bag, but was almost surprised to see it.  
_  
*Do you wish the first go?*_ Jolinar asked, her heart starting to pump faster as she began to stretch.

Sam felt a moment of passivity, but the spark of passion burned brighter in her. _~Yes,~_ she said.

After a slight burn in the stretch, and one random spasm, Sam felt ready to beat it all out. Her technique flowed steadily, even as her first strikes were weak, for aim and judging distance only. She settled into an easy stance, neither solid nor light. Leading with her right, she put a few light strikes on the punching bag.

Simple, emotionless, routine. And yet, the warmth of the movement moved her thoughts to something more active. She thought about each movement, feeling the amount of power needed, judging the speed of the bag that now swung a little after each hit.

Then she tossed her first strike with her left hand, and a rush of exhilaration ran through her when there was no pain or pressure. Her bones were solid again, and Sam threw another two quick strikes. A tight smile crossed her face.

She moved closer, hugging to the vicinity of the bag, moving as it swung. The longer she moved, the smoother it got. And she felt Jolinar’s strength enhancing hers, sending the punching bag on longer and longer arcs.

It was a good enough start, and she let Jolinar take it further. Jolinar was sharper in her attack, less focused on form and more on efficiency. She added power to each strike, and tried sweeping and dodging the punching bag instead of stepping aside. Unlike Sam, though, she did not think about the acts themselves.  
_  
*A sweep to the neck is a hit an ashrak will never take,* _she said, the information more running through her head than words she wanted to say to Sam. But Sam understood, saying things made a difference. _*They do not want themself as symbiote harmed, and they do not have other options like the Goa’uld. But Jaffa helmets shield everything of the neck but hook attacks.*  
_  
Jolinar squatted down, striking with her elbow instead of her fist to the middle of the punching bag. _*Jaffa cannot bend well in their armor, though, and their helmets are top-heavy; shots to their center will knock them off balance.*_ She spun quickly, a back strike with her elbow slamming into the upper portion of the punching bag. _*Followed with a strike to the chest, and they will fall over. They will try to move quickly to match the spin, but their armor will not allow it, and their stance will be even more off.*  
_  
Jolinar relived vague memories of specific fights with each piece of knowledge, and Sam saw a brutal history of self defense. Jolinar grimaced, but the deep-running satisfaction affected Sam even more. They were capable.

Another fight coming to Jolinar’s mind spawned another piece of information, another form of attack. She stepped back, rotating, and started striking out with kicks. Snap, roundhouse, hook. Even after stretching, her body wasn’t as flexible as it could be. Jolinar pushed it to its limits, the burn a good burn as she aimed for the ‘head’ of the punching bag.   
_  
~And this is?~_

*If a Jaffa knows how to use his staff for more than aiming straight. You may kick the weapon aside, or kick past it.*  
  
It was not so simple to visualize, and Jolinar recalled one such instance, painting the picture in her mind so that the punching bag almost looked like a Jaffa with a staff. Sam saw the figure too, and even though Jolinar could know every upcoming move, this was about form and not sparring.

Jolinar hissed out as a particularly strong kick sent the punching bag flying, leaving a red mark on her own bare foot. The bag came back, and Jolinar used her elbow to strike it to the side. In her mind, the Jaffa went flying to the ground. Jolinar stepped closer, punching close and sharp.

Sam felt a surge of anger, and she realized that the Jaffa was not faceless. As he stood there stunned, enough so that Jolinar could have escaped, she pressed in closer. Breathing deeply, she sent another shot from close quarters, and then the Jaffa blurred and became Quetesh. Her breath catching harshly, Jolinar closed her eyes and sent a volley of quick strikes, even stepping in for the kidney shot. Hard and fast, she stopped after a few seconds, finally out of breath. Her knuckles were red and sore, but as Jolinar opened her eyes, the punching bag was neutral again.

It didn’t feel as good as Jolinar had hoped. She hadn’t planned to act out her anger and frustration, but the catharsis was supposed to help. Sam thought it had, in the moment. Now, they could both feel how unfinished it still was. And would be, if this was all they had. If this was their only recourse, pathetic as it truly was.  
_  
*There is no substitute for reality in any training,*_ Jolinar said. She let the punching bag swing slower and slower, and she turned to walk away. The jerkiness of her movements had faded, but now she was starting to feel tired and hungry.

Sam had nothing to say as they left. The power of being active had been close to what they needed.

ooooooo

After everything, the choice seemed natural. Inaction would frustrate them, and there was only one mission that was sure to provide something to help it.

“We request to participate in the mission to defeat Quetesh,” Jolinar said. She approached Garshaw in a quiet corridor, the first among the rest of the Tok’ra that either she or Sam had had any interaction with since their original mission briefings.

“The Tok’ra rarely turn down offers of aid,” Garshaw said, “but Jolinar, this is not what is desired.”

Sam was surprised to see how well Jolinar could articulate what they both felt. “We are both healed, and we know exactly what needs to be done. We need it, not only the Tok’ra.”

“For revenge,” Garshaw clarified, frowning.

Jolinar paused, taking a breath instead of biting her tongue. “That is not even possible. We could not approach Quetesh, now that she knows our face. But that is not the only position. Before, we had no operative among the people, ready to begin to stir rebellion. Let Samantha and I be that.”

“For what purpose?” Garshaw asked. Her arms rested lightly crossed over her chest. “For the good of the Tok’ra and the people in this galaxy, or for the humiliation of Quetesh?”

Jolinar eyed her closely. “Are you suggesting that what happened will influence us unduly?” Her heart skipped a beat, because it was true, even though neither she nor Sam cared.

“It is not the habit of the Tok’ra to allow compromised operatives to endanger themselves, even when there is not a mission at stake,” said Garshaw, pointed but not harsh. “You suffered as much as most, and you cannot be fully recovered yet by any standard.”

“It is a simple position,” said Jolinar, pleading her case without letting her tone sound like begging. “We go in disguise, we mingle. There are no choices that we might be tempted to make, and no chance that Quetesh might come.”

Garshaw waited a moment before answering. “Not now,” she said. “I will speak to the Council, and especially Selmak, in a few days. You are not allowed to be rash, Jolinar, especially when it might damage you more.”

Sam knew what she meant; so did Jolinar. They could see the logic, even if they did not want to accept it. Maybe it would be problematic to be back in the field, but maybe they needed to work things out of their system instead of resting them away.

Jolinar nodded, and turned to leave.  
_  
~Why especially Selmak?~ _Sam asked. She knew the Tok’ra did not condone entangling emotional attachments, which was only as expected for their general profession.  
_  
*Selmak has more experience than us in...recovery,*_ Jolinar said. She knew little more, other than the vague references she’d added up over the decades of small conversations.

Sam wanted to be intrigued, but she felt on edge more than that. She just needed to do something. Jolinar always did, but right now Sam wanted more than her to escape. Get this over with, as fast as possible. She never liked recovery from anything.  
_  
~I feel like we can make progress,_~ Sam said.  
_  
*Of course,*_ said Jolinar. Her emotions seemed to focus then, and calm a little. _*Did I ever suggest otherwise? I have recovered so often, Samantha...I do not see more trials as inevitable, even if they may be, and I am ready for their end in this period of time. Their swift end.*_

~Good,~ said Sam, relieved. _~I didn’t want this to be a specter forever.~_

*I promise you, it will not be.*

It was the first piece of true hope that they’d shared since Quetesh. Their capacity was lessened, but still enough to send the emotion through their mind and body, giving them strength. Jolinar wouldn’t even think of failure. In a few days, certainly, the Council would let them go.  
_  
*I do not believe they have another option in hand,*_ said Jolinar.  
_  
~And we will be ready for them to make the choice,~_ said Sam.

They weren’t themselves again. Not yet. Their body still felt slightly different, something they would have to get used to. It was close, though, and sleep was coming with fewer nightmares to remember.


	3. Age

Sam buried herself in Reyfa and Dru’ri’s lab, herself and Jolinar as silent observers. Reyfa held her tongue, not pushing them to conversation. Dru’ri surfaced more often, not as interested in discussion in the first place. Sam just watched, sharing what she could with Jolinar.  
_  
~Remember when I thought of having more time for this?~_ Sam asked, as Dru’ri ran tests on the latest weapon research that Malek had sent from Risa Base.  
_  
*I remember many desires,*_ Jolinar said. And they ran through her head, too fast to grab onto. Neither wanted to; neither wanted to feel regret.

With all the memories that Jolinar had, she found a way to filter them. More and more she focused on pleasant memories of conversation and love and triumph. So many others needed suppression, now as perhaps always. Sam found herself doing likewise, pushing aside everything but her successes.

Two days after they spoke to Garshaw, Jacob and Selmak returned from their first mission. Jolinar was ready again, and she and Sam spent an evening with them. Jolinar found that she loved chess now, and halfway through the game she almost smiled. Jacob snorted as if brushing off the major strategic loss he’d just undergone, and Jolinar did smile then.

Her play was more aggressive and simple, but it worked. Sam remembered that she wasn’t an expert at the game, and almost sat back as Jolinar stretched her mind more. She’d been afraid that the old things wouldn’t feel the same anymore, but the power of memory included the power to forget. They could forget just enough to live.

ooooooo

The gate opened in a building of fairly advanced design, as SG-1 went out on their first new mission in quite some time. No people of any kind could be seen, though, and the curtains had Jack jumping to conclusions.

“Looks like somebody's closed for the winter.” He sighed.

Daniel wasn’t sure, and walked ahead.

“It’s not Goa’uld,” McKay commented, casting his own glance around the odd objects curtained off. “Right, Teal’c?”

“Indeed,” Teal’c said. “These devices are unfamiliar to me.”

Daniel looked around for some organization to it all, his eye catching what looked like a curtain in front of an entrance. Behind him, though, the team was fairly scattered in the room.

“Oh!” Daniel glanced back to see McKay, looking down at one of the devices.

“Did you touch it?” Jack asked.

“I did not,” McKay said, slightly protesting. “I know the rules.”

“The Colonel remembers them because they only really applied to him in the first place,” Dixon said with a chuckle.

 “Don’t forget about Daniel,” Jack answered warningly.

Daniel looked away from where his gaze was. “Not anymore, Jack. I promised Sha’re I wouldn’t touch anything weird.” He looked back. “I wonder what's in there?”

A voice came out of almost nowhere, and they all jumped. “I am in there.”

“Jesus,” muttered Jack, gripping his gun.

Daniel made the connection between the voice and the curtain, and nodded to his team. They were all assembled as an old man appeared. White haired and bent over, he was dressed in long robes.

“I am unarmed,” he said, but his comment was almost unnecessary.

“Good,” said Jack. “Who are you?”

Daniel had been focused on the man, surprised at his appearance, when Teal’c walked up next to him.

“You are the one called Ma’chello, are you not?”

The old man frowned, as did Daniel. “Do I know you?” Ma’chello asked.

“You do not,” said Teal’c. He glanced slightly back over his shoulder at the team before continuing. “But I have seen images of you, though your face had not been seen in many years.” He turned fully to the team. “Before I was born this man was a fugitive from the System Lords. One of my first assignments under Apophis was to hunt him.”

Daniel felt a little thrill. This was strange, but fascinating. “What did he do?” he asked Teal’c.

“Developing advanced technology to battle the Goa’uld,” said Teal’c simply. “He was captured and tortured and marked as a Goa’uld host. But before the System Lords could retain his knowledge, he killed several Jaffa and escaped.”

Daniel glanced back to the old man, this news even more surprising.

Jack thought so too. “_He_ did that?”

Ma’chello shook his head. “I am not this person you speak of.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Daniel assured, seeing the backtracking in the man’s behavior. “We’re not Goa’ulds.”

Ma’chello looked at him. “We are not?” Then, a strange brightness came to his expression. “Of course we are not! Then if we are not Goa’ulds, who are we?”

Daniel paused, trying not to frown. This was getting stranger, certainly. He glanced back to his team—Jack and Dixon stood with weapons ready, Teal’c stood patiently, and McKay had a skeptical face. “Well, I—I’m Daniel Jackson from the planet Earth.”

“Yes, yes!” said Ma’chello, his face all lit up. “I am Daniel Jackson from the planet Earth. Pleased to meet you.”

“No, no,” protested Daniel, indicating himself. “I’m Daniel Jackson.”

“No, I am Daniel Jackson,” Ma’chello protested right back.

“It’s not as if his identity matters,” McKay brought up. Both Daniel and Ma’chello turned to look at the new speaker, who then rolled his eyes. “Just ask him if these are the Goa’uld-fighting inventions.”

“Ah, yes,” Ma’chello said before Daniel could ask him. “Inventions to fight the Goa’uld!”

Now Daniel lit up and McKay looked a little less frustrated. “Can you show us how they work?” Daniel asked.

Ma’chello paused, eyeing Daniel closely. “And we are sure we are not Goa’uld?”

Daniel had to admit, he understood McKay’s skepticism. But he didn’t take anything on first basis in this galaxy. “Yes,” he assured Ma’chello.

Ma’chello lit up again, as much as such a frail man could. He beckoned with a hand as he moved to one of the curtained areas. “You, you,” he said, pointing to Daniel. “Come quickly, inventions to fight the Goa’uld.”

Daniel followed him over, not entirely sure that he would actually learn anything. Ma’chello pulled a sheet off of one of the devices, which looked like a double set of bull’s horns. He beckoned again to Daniel, holding onto one set of horns.

“What does it do?” asked Daniel.

Ma’chello, nodded to the other set of horns, indicating that Daniel should grab it.

“McKay, some help?” Daniel asked, looking back.

“What?” the scientist asked, slightly exasperated. Daniel raised his eyebrows, and McKay sighed. “Oh, you need the scientific opinion about the strange device?”

“Not to fight you,” Ma’chello insisted, still holding onto the horns. “Help you.”

McKay walked over, casting one long glance over the object. “Hmm. Well, it’s either a piece of junk or highly advanced, since there’s no button or switch.”

“Ma’chello was not known for creations without function,” Teal’c offered.

Daniel’s eye was caught by Ma’chello. The lightness of his face had frozen into place, and Daniel could see him breathing faster, his eyes darting between Daniel and McKay and Teal’c.

“Daniel?” Jack asked from where he still stood with Dixon, though their guns now hung relaxed.

“Hmm,” McKay said again, brow creased as he looked at the thing.

“What does it do?” Daniel asked again, more slowly, as he looked at Ma’chello.

“Help,” Ma’chello said, his voice sounding as if it was on the urge of breaking.

Daniel felt confused, a little frustrated. He thought he’d understood Ma’chello for a moment, a slightly eccentric old scientist wanting to show off his creations. But now there seemed something else, and Daniel wasn’t sure if he was worried for Ma’chello or for his team.

“Jackson,” said McKay, pulling Daniel’s attention from Ma’chello. “I can’t tell a thing about this device without taking it apart, and since I don’t trust this guy to remember which of his things are Goa’uld killers and which of them aren’t, I’m not going to even touch it.”

Dixon hmmed.

“And it’s technically against the rules,” McKay added, waving his hand as if that didn’t matter.

“You can’t tell us anything?” Daniel asked, turning back to Ma’chello. He felt helpless in this strange situation.

Ma’chello’s breathing was harder, and his eyes wide as he slowly shook his head. Then, to Daniel’s shock, he collapsed to the floor.

“Oh no,” Daniel said, hurrying to his side, now truly worried.

“We didn’t do that, did we?” McKay asked, concerned.

Daniel put a finger to Ma’chello’s neck, and felt relieved to find a pulse. “He’s alive,” he said. “We need to get him to medical help.”

“Dixon, dial the gate,” ordered Jack.

Teal’c came to Daniel’s side, picking up the frail old man as if he weighed nothing. McKay and Daniel followed him back to the gate.

“You know, this was looking like it’d be worth it,” said McKay. “Until the crazy happened.”

“My thoughts exactly,” muttered Jack.

“Which just adds to the strangeness,” said Dixon as the chevrons dialed.

“Let’s just hope he’s okay,” said Daniel, frowning. A part of him felt teased by what Teal’c had said, and the tantalizing appearance of technology of his place, and he couldn’t bear to have it end without any answer. He hoped it wasn’t a dead end or a trap.

Glancing around at the strange technology that might be weaponry against the Goa’uld, but which they might never know, Daniel followed his team through the gate back to Earth.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar had counted every one of the ten days spent on the Tok’ra base, but it was the last three before Garshaw approached them that felt longest. Sam felt like she might falter, and love it too much. The quiet, the peace from facing others if they did not feel like it, and the allowance to learn what she could.  
_  
~Tell me about Rosha,~_ she finally asked Jolinar.

Jolinar had seen this coming, and knew that her reaction had given Sam permission to ask aloud. She didn’t ask for more, but Jolinar was ready to give it.

She stood in their chamber, and walked over to the mirror. Five months had brought Sam’s hair to shoulder-length, and Jolinar could almost bring Rosha’s face to her mind. She had seen it in the mirror for over 100 years, but it was hard to remember when your own self seemed to change. Jolinar was distracted for the moment by the long thin silver scar that traced from her left temple all the way down to her breastbone—forever a reminder of one thing she couldn’t fix.  
_  
*Rosha was born on a planet more like yours than you might think,*_ Jolinar said, finding her focus again. _*Once it was protected from the Goa’uld, and Rosha’s grandmother could remember living free. Even beaten down by the Goa’uld, strength still ran through the veins of all who lived on that planet. I used her as an ally there, because she always maintained that things would succeed—sometimes I wonder if I misused her optimism. I was captured by the Jaffa, held for questioning. Except it would never come; the Jaffa planned to kill me first, Rosha found out. She offered to become my new host so that I might escape. At first I refused to leave Elista behind, but in the end it was not my choice. I submitted to them both, and let Elista offer herself so that the Tok’ra cause might last.*_

Sam kept her thoughts steady, carefully absorbing the information. Jolinar brought up the memory of returning to the Tok’ra, heart broken for more than just the loss of a host. Jolinar had sworn to repay her enslavement of Elista with a life of good purpose; Elista had died, though, and Jolinar felt like she had betrayed her.

It was this, Sam realized as she remembered watching all the faces that she vaguely recognized, that convinced the Tok’ra of Jolinar’s loyalty. Her grief for Elista, and Rosha’s stubborn efforts to keep Jolinar focused on what could be done, were a marked difference from the impetuous symbiote the Tok’ra had known before. Sam somehow knew this, the same way she knew that Rosha had gone to Selmak at just the right time.

Rosha did not let Jolinar’s emotions drag her down in the beginning. Her blending was still new, and she used it to her advantage, spreading an outward appearance of determined joy. Jolinar remembered the brightness of her mind, and she was not the only one.

Sam saw Martouf and Lantash, captivated by Rosha’s smile and laughter, rare among the Tok’ra. Jolinar was not so joyful, but Rosha brought her to a comfortable place, and they blended in a way that was fierce and uncompromising. Stubborn, but bright like a star, yet it was Jolinar who fell in love first. Rosha had only a few days of satisfaction in bringing Jolinar to such a place, before she forgot to focus on Jolinar, and found herself looking upward into the face that had Jolinar fascinated.

Then, for a time, Rosha’s joy was shared with Jolinar, peace and happiness theirs to hold as they left aside guilt and duty both. Marriage among the Tok’ra was rare, but simple.

Sam couldn’t remember a memory of her own with such painful depth. It was only good pain, the kind that comes when there is too much good for a normal heart to hold. Jolinar and Rosha had been as one, with themselves and their love and the Tok’ra and the universe.  
_  
*She did not bring new ideas, for all the change that she brought,* _Jolinar commented, lingering on that peace just long enough in case it could still heal her emotions._ *Only a new will to approach. She felt free to stay silent, leading from behind, but a sharp observer of it all. She could find happiness. My guilt became hers, but she could overwhelm it in a way I had only wished to do.*_

~And then?~ Sam asked. She knew something had changed, if only because this Jolinar was not the one that she remembered when they first blended.  
_  
*The Tok’ra are not meant to find true happiness at all times,*_ Jolinar said. _*Pain and loss followed, and Netu last of all. Rosha was not so bright after that; she knew why I was what I was. We were closest in those last years, almost identical. And then we pushed, and Chronus’ ashrak found us. I lost her on Nasya, too damaged to heal. Quinta found us, and he was to be my host for a short time. Then he died in the same way and—you know what happened afterwards.*_

Sam could barely remember that far. Or rather, she knew what happened, but could not feel the emotions. They were too different from what she felt now, too different from the ones she could understand. Jolinar had few words for Rosha, but needed no more.

Jolinar left the mirror, sitting on their bed. She was not lost in grief, or pain, or even the emptiness of some of these days of recovery. No one could call it contentment, but Sam felt it as a kind of acceptance, a shrug of the shoulders because there was no cause yet for strong emotions.  
_  
~Thank you,~_ Sam said, and Jolinar shrugged again. She found herself wanting to know more, feeling that what was still separate was a kind of secret-keeping somehow. Even so, she knew how there was only so much time. She took what she could have, gladly.

Jolinar was looking back too far, realizing how much she had grown through Rosha, a journey that was not completed, that had gone on surprisingly far into all she and Sam had done together. She shook her head, the openness intriguing even to her. _*Will you tell me of some of your life?* _she asked.

Sam thought of her father, her mother, and realized just how much she had kept quiet in her life. Things she called insignificant compared to others, but that added up into the shape of her life.  
_  
~I had a good start in life,~_ she began.

Jolinar sat back, listening, mind calm. Even though Sam knew that it would start to hurt soon, she smiled to herself, and began to share her story.

ooooooo

“He still hasn’t told us anything,” Janet explained. Like so often, only Daniel and McKay waited for news of Ma’chello’s condition. “And I’m not sure he has any time left.” She twisted her hands, frowning at all she couldn’t do.

The eccentric but active man that they had first seen on the planet disappeared as soon as he woke from his collapse back in the SGC. Ma’chello had lain brooding and silent since then. The rest of the team didn’t see anything else from their mission, but Daniel couldn’t put aside his curiosity. He talked to Teal’c, asking for more stories of Ma’chello. Teal’c had none, only regret that they should end like this.

McKay had seen the technology of Ma’chello’s lab, though. Despite the possible danger, he was itching to learn more. And if they really fought the Goa’uld as they were supposed to, Daniel would be feeling the same.

“So what now?” Daniel said. If Ma’chello would not or could not speak, and if he was as near death’s door as Janet’s continual assessment said, he feared that the mission was just a tantalizing failure.

“It’s not my call,” said Janet with a sigh.

Daniel nodded.

“I can’t imagine that I can’t crack the code somehow,” McKay said, shuffling in his seat. “If Hammond can send someone back in protective gear, then surely it’ll be safe to bring one of the objects back.”

“You’re going to do tests on it here?” Daniel asked, a little wary. “What if it really is a weapon?”

“I’m not going to activate anything,” McKay said, rolling his eyes. “There’s a kind of notepad with writing on it, and if Ma’chello is as smart as he’s supposed to be, it’s probably some kind of computer, maybe with instructions. That, and the device that he said would ‘help’, and I can figure out how the things fit together.”

“You think,” said Daniel. “Well, I don’t know if the General will allow that.”

“A possible defense against the Goa’uld, and he’s just going to turn his back?” McKay asked rhetorically.

Daniel shrugged.

An hour later, he was standing by the gate, waiting for Jack and Dixon to come back. Teal’c had returned already with the computer device in a protected carrying case, and Jack and Dixon were supposed to be on his heels.

Suddenly they stumbled through the gate with the horned object, dropping it at the bottom of the ramp. Dixon ripped off his hazmat mask, face frustrated in a way that Dixon’s almost never was.

“What is it?” asked Daniel, concerned.

“That,” Dixon said, emphasizing the word, “did not go well. At all.”

“Yes sir,” sighed Jack.

“Wait, what?” McKay said, shaking his head as if he’d heard wrong.

Daniel hadn’t quite placed it when ‘Jack’ turned to McKay. “Well, McKay, hazmat doesn’t work.”

“Yes, brilliant plan that,” said ‘Dixon’ sarcastically. “And Daniel, why don’t you congratulate Mijello on his ‘help’, which apparently involves body-swapping.”

“What?” McKay said again.

Daniel just stared, hearing Jack’s tone coming from Dixon’s mouth. It was too well done to be a prank, he somehow knew. “Jack?” he asked, looking at ‘Dixon’.

“Ya think?” ‘Dixon’ asked right back.

“Oh god,” muttered McKay.

Daniel just sighed. Body-swapping. This was just...not good at all.

ooooooo

“Mrs. Dixon, now is not a good time,” Daniel said, meeting Clara as she came down the hall towards the infirmary.

Clara frowned. “Why? Has he hurt himself again?”

“No, not really,” Daniel assured her, glancing back to the infirmary, but confident in the truth of his words.

Clara gave him a look, and continued walking. “But something’s up.”

“Yes, but I’m sure he doesn’t think you need to know,” Daniel said, keeping up with her.

They turned into the infirmary, and Daniel sighed. Too many people, and not in hospital beds, for it to be a normal day.

“Dear gods, this body is old!” exclaimed ‘Jack’, leaning over and touching his knees.

“Oh, stop it,” answered ‘Dixon’, tapping his foot on the floor as he sat in a chair, glaring at the device that only they had touched.

“Clara,” commented ‘Jack’ with surprise, looking up. He stood up straighter.

“Colonel?” Clara answered, confused. She took a few steps forward.

“Uh, you shouldn’t be here,” said ‘Jack’, casting a hasty glance to ‘Dixon’.

‘Dixon’ looked up. “Gah—Daniel!”

Daniel shrugged. It wasn’t like he could have helped this from happening.

“What’s going on?” asked Clara, putting a hand to her hip. She pointed to the object. “And what is this?”

“Don’t, don’t touch that,” McKay snapped, coming across the infirmary from where Ma’chello still lay, Ma’chello’s computer in his hand. “We don’t want any more accidents, or before we know, everyone will be scrambled with no cure.”

“Rodney, don’t talk nonsense,” admonished Clara. “And I wasn’t going to touch it.”

“I don’t talk nonsense,” blustered McKay back. “These two managed to get their minds switched with each others, and guess who was left to figure the whole mess out?”

“Seriously?” Clara asked, slightly incredulous. She turned to ‘Dixon’, who indicated ‘Jack’.

“Sorry, hon,” said ‘Jack’.

“Oh good god,” Clara muttered, putting a hand to her head. “I shouldn’t even think about what goes on in here...”

Daniel sighed. It had been a long day already, especially since Ma’chello still wouldn’t speak. He seemed to have lost all interest in life too, no longer even brooding. Daniel and Janet were both afraid that he would die.

“Well, if the obvious lesson is over, then maybe I can get back to work without worrying about Jackson letting random people near the body-snatcher of death?” McKay said pointedly.

Daniel nodded.

“Who makes that kind of device anyway?” Clara wondered, taking a seat to wait for the solution.

“It almost made sense,” said Daniel, as ‘Dixon’ and ‘Jack’ avoided looking at each other or Clara or the object. “Except, there’s no way of reversing the process, that we’ve found yet. I mean, there has to be one, but it’s not the main purpose of this.”

“It’s Goa’uld, isn’t it?” Clara said, in a tone that said she should have expected it.

“Actually, no, it’s to defeat them,” Daniel said.

Clara snorted. “I should be upset, really, but they’ve survived worse, right? All this was meant to do was get a bunch of Goa’uld too busy scrambling themselves so they could find the right body again...it’s not even deadly.”

Daniel nodded, glad to have that interpretation. Jack and Dixon had been much more dramatic about it all, which had almost been entertaining. Then, he paused. “Wait,” he said.

Clara’s eyebrow rose. “What?”

Daniel tried to remember what she said, one of the words right on the tip of his tongue. “Scrambler,” he said. “You said this thing was a scrambler.”

“That’s what Rodney said,” Clara answered, slightly confused.

Daniel’s mind was figuring it out faster than he could say it. “You might have an idea we hadn’t tried, though.”

ooooooo

“We have judged your request now,” said Garshaw, approaching Sam and Jolinar in the hall. She stood, calm, arms resting at her sides. “With much dissent, it was decided that you may be fit for duty again.”

Sam nodded, though strangely unmoved by this success.

“We do indeed require an underground position on Dorieth,” Garshaw continued, her arms coming up to cross loosely across her chest. “However, only the utmost subtlety can be allowed. You will infiltrate as one of the slaves on the planet, and you must go in as understated a disguise as you can. Remain in contact with our other operative, and carry out only what is necessary.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Sam said, bowing her head slightly. “We do not want risks.” Jolinar agreed; the anger and passion for this mission was naturally finding a slow burn, feelings deep enough to influence everything and yet leave time for planning. If there was any success to be had, both of them knew that strategy was necessary. And would make their triumph sweet enough, perhaps, to replace the guilt of nearly ruining it with impulse and intuition.

“Much of this is not within our usual practices, as Jolinar should know,” Garshaw continued, looking directly at Sam.

Sam nodded slowly. So they were a special case, as always.

Garshaw turned to leave.  
_  
~How can we disguise ourselves?~_ Sam wondered.

Jolinar started to think, and a hint of interest started to come to them, changing the flatness of the past days. It wasn’t just something they had to do; this was something they might even want to do.

For the first time in at least a week, they had something that wasn’t recovery. Back in the field was where they needed to be.

ooooooo

From what Teal’c said, or didn’t say, Daniel was glad that for Sha’re’s sake he hadn’t risked himself by testing his theory on Ma’chello’s body-swapping machine personally. Instead, he watched with relief and amusement as everyone protested, and then carried it out with resigned interest.

McKay and Dixon-in-Jack did it first, and it worked. Jack shuddered, and muttered beneath his breath that he didn’t ever want to see McKay in his body again. Daniel shook his head with silent laughter, because only here could that sentence make sense.

McKay-in-Jack then switched with Jack-in-Dixon, and Jack stretched and shook the muscles that were now his again. McKay and Dixon got back to their bodies next, and then Clara ordered Dixon not to touch anything offworld ever again, even through hazmat.

There was one last thing to do, though, and Dixon and Jack, now immune, took the device back to Ma’chello’s planet. The man died that evening, his code still unsolved and everyone wondering what exactly had happened to him.


	4. Same Old

According to Selmak, the Council had contacted Martouf and Lantash to find a time for Sam and Jolinar to sneak into Dorieth, by going offworld and then joining another slave transfer. Once there, they should be able to blend in with a disguise.

A disguise. Sam first looked in the mirror, pictured herself in slave guard and without the Jaffa tattoo she had worn previously. That would have been enough, except for her hair. She fingered her dyed-blonde hair, knowing it was a rare color, especially among slaves.  
_  
*That can be fixed,*_ said Jolinar.

If the Tok’ra had resources for anything, it was for effective infiltration, including appropriate disguises. Jolinar was given something that would strip all but the natural dye from hair. Sam had always liked her golden hair, but she didn’t need it. She was quick to agree to the permanence of the disguise, and before the day was out, she was looking at almost a new self in the mirror.

Her natural hair was a mousy blonde color like it had been as a child, dark without being quite brown. Easily long enough to pull back, she did so—it accentuated the slight angular look her face had. She’d lost weight during their healing, and hadn’t gained it all back. Along with the scar, and the way that there was no tattoo to draw the gaze upward, she only recognized herself because she knew herself. They’d still have to play it differently, but she doubted that anyone would be on the lookout for Coron in disguise.

Other than perhaps the Abydonians. She’d gotten it approved with the Council that she could speak to them, eventually, once her cover was established. Their actions had come to the attention of both Martouf and Lantash, and through him the Council. Slightly disturbed, but not wanting to mess with something that worked, the Council had agreed to keeping the status quo. Cautiously, and it was not something they would have chosen—still, it was enough for Sam and Jolinar.

Finally clad in worn but functional clothes, Jolinar walked up to the gate in what felt like forever. Shan’ak still waited and did his job as always. Sam listened to the sound of each locking chevron, and felt the desire for this mission course through her veins again.  
_  
*Ready?*_

~Definitely.~  
  
Maybe a little sharper, maybe less at ease, but by the time they were through the gate Sam and Jolinar felt like they’d regained something. It was night on this planet, and quietly they slipped among the slaves gathered for morning transfer.

Coron had come naturally to them when their mission first started, and now a new identity began to rise easily. Devret. Jolinar chose the name, but together they found their unobtrusive side and pushed it forward.

The morning came and Jolinar saw no Jaffa that she recognized when they came to lead Jolinar and her fellow slaves to the gate. Jolinar hunched over a little, letting her lids shade her eyes. For the first time on this mission, they weren’t sure what would happen on the other side.

Dorieth was not the same place they’d left three weeks ago. The rubble from the temple had been pushed aside, some of it gone entirely. What was left on the bottom was being reassembled into a foundation. And Jolinar had no idea what the eventual result would be. The control wasn’t theirs anymore.

She curbed her curiosity and did not look again. At first it seemed like they would be put to use on the road—and that’s continued existence gave Sam a moment of morbid satisfaction—but then they and a few others were withdrawn and sent to an area just off the mines that was being stripped of lumber. On the road up there, Jolinar smelled smoke and saw it rising over the horizon to the north.  
_  
*That would explain the absence of some of the rubble. I would guess that additional furnaces have been built.*_

~Which is the reason for the wood, I’m guessing.~

*This world is not technologically advanced enough to have more machinery. It seems that Quetesh had one purpose alone, and our destruction...*

~Really messed up the balance,~ Sam finished.

The terrain was steep and difficult up to the tropical forests that covered the western hills of Dorieth, and the Jaffa stopped three quarters of the way up. Ordering Jolinar and the other slaves forward, they held that position, calling up commands that were relayed to the furthermost part of the lumber camp.

Relieved that they would not be watched, Jolinar took herself and Sam up as high as possible, and was glad to be in the shade.  
_  
*Now to work,*_ Jolinar said, but prematurely.

“Samantha?” Jolinar tensed at the disastrous word and did not turn in answer. She didn’t have to, as the speaker came around to check his assumption. “You are Samantha.”

Jolinar paused, and glanced to make sure that the Jaffa were well out of the way. This was an Abydonian, the one who had approached Sam and Jolinar about their disguise on this very planet. Creot was his name, she thought she remembered.  
 “I almost did not recognize you,” Creot said, a low voice, a bit of a smile on his face. “But I was expecting this.”

“Is that so?” Jolinar asked in a low voice.

“I saw and heard what you did before,” Creot continued. “I knew that you would do anything to succeed in this mission, as Kasuf relayed to us. When you disappeared, and Tirnin the false god said that you were disgraced, I did not believe it.”

“Then you are half-foolish,” Jolinar said, but without harshness.

Creot bowed his head. “I do not choose to despair.”

Jolinar paused, but decided that Sam’s feeling was right. “In this instance you were correct. We have returned to aid you, and all the peoples on this planet.”

“Then we will have sanctuary ready for you,” Creot said, nodding.

“Later,” Jolinar cautioned. The moment of surprise at this meeting did not past quickly, though.

Despite the exercise they’d been able to achieve on the Tok’ra homeworld, the rest of the day challenged their limits already. Jolinar’s symbiote strength didn’t carry as far as it should, and Sam felt little twitches threatening their movement. They swung the ax with wide strokes, and it stopped feeling good when thudding into the trees with a shuddering vibration sent her hints of nausea.

Darkness fell, and the end of the shift welcomed them. Silent and relieved, sweat lines on her dusty face, Sam walked with the rest of the slaves back to their quarters. She saw just enough room for her and Jolinar to squeeze in one corner.

But then, the next shift left, and before Sam could settle, Creot had beckoned her towards him and started talking. Not too loudly, just enough that his fellow slaves would quiet down to listen. “Oh my family,” he said, the Abydonian opening sounding strange but welcome in the common tongue. “Be quiet and listen to my words.”

With only a buzz breaking the silence, Sam watched everyone move to the center of the chambers, huddling so that Creot’s voice could be quiet. Not all were Abydonians, and Sam wondered how Creot could almost command them like this. When they were all ready, he continued.

“Once we had the aid of one who served the false gods under pretenses,” Creot said, voice low but firm enough to carry to the group. “Coron.”

Sam felt a little proud as she saw the heads nodding.

“Coron was discovered and cannot return,” Creot continued. “But the one who gave Coron life has returned to us to fulfill her mission.” He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, and the entire group shifted their gaze.

A hush fell. Jolinar was wary for a moment, and Sam’s stance became a little uncomfortable.

“Then we may yet prevail?” one of the Abydonians among the group asked.

Creot nodded, and the group murmured amongst themselves, possibly hopeful. “She is here to help us, and we are here to help her.”

Sam nodded to them all, unsure, and then suddenly the crowd was pressing closer, and the buzz of a barely audible murmur surrounded her. Her breath caught in her chest, and she felt hands resting on her head and shoulders, as if in blessing. Jolinar soothed her heart’s rate, recognizing that this was no attack, only a kind of reverence.

They started to back up, and Sam looked into their faces, seeing desperate eyes circled with dark shadows. Her tension faded as she saw the faint light of hope, the trembling of some hands, the instant looks of openness. To them, she was another equal.

Her heart swelled in a way she hadn’t felt in a while. It hurt, and she swallowed sharply. She put out her hand, gently touching each of the hands near her, looking from face to face. The crowd no longer invaded, it was filling the sense of emptiness that for a moment she’d forgotten waited back there. “I make my vow to you,” she said quietly, firmly. “I am here to do all in my power to see that Quetesh is brought down, and all of you are freed.”

More hands were outstretched, reaching through to the center of the circle, helping affirm the shared vow.

“And we,” said one of the non-Abydonians. “We cannot let you be discovered again.”

There was a murmur of approval, but Jolinar didn’t know what it meant.

“Today is the last day that you must expose yourself to the Jaffa,” agreed Creot, nodding. “We will hide you among us, our light hidden beneath a jar.”

Sam and Jolinar both had nothing to say, not having expected these words.

“There are many of us, and only few Jaffa, so there should be no fear for any of us,” answered the other one who had spoken.

“What shall we call you?” one of the women asked.

Sam swallowed. “Devret,” she said.

“You will be safe on this world, Devret,” said another Abydonian, putting his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “And together we will succeed against all false gods.”

Jolinar inwardly blustered at his overconfidence, but even so, it was a pleasant reminder. Sam gave a slight smile, and nodded her acceptance. Already, Creot started to speak to “his” people, beginning the plans that would keep Sam and Jolinar hidden in safety.

They weren’t supposed to feel this support. Their mission was supposed to be covert. But as they saw the initiative and agency of these people, nurtured to be rebellious over long time, Sam felt the pull of memory. Teamwork. Jolinar could scarce remember when she’d last needed it, but Sam could.

And in that moment, Sam said something, but only moments before the words came to Jolinar. Screw the Tok’ra High Council. This mission would succeed because of cooperation, and Jolinar and Sam would make sure of it. Any information that could be useful, Sam decided that they would share. And together, they would put a plan together.

Sam settled down in a corner that could not be seen from any door, tucked behind a curtain. “Thank you,” she said, nodding to the young man who got her settled. She paused, then realized she’d need to start a new habit. “And what is your name?”

“Drego,” he said, nodding. “And it is my thanks that I would give, rather.”

“Maybe you should wait until we get something done,” Sam said, but she gave him a last nod.

Her exhaustion didn’t weigh so heavily as she fell asleep that night.

ooooooo

In the morning, as Daniel saw nothing urgent on his agenda, his mind seemed to leap in response to remind him. Dr. Jordan—had he really not had contact with him since that one and only mission? In all that had happened, he wondered if Jordan had forgotten him, or at least thought Daniel had done so.

Before picking up the phone to give a call, Daniel paused to think. Did he mention Sha’re and Shifu, the two who had taken so much of his time? Or did he jump, maybe, to the Ancient discoveries that would surely interest the professor? Maybe he could fax over the information first, so that they could discuss first impressions together. But no, that wouldn’t work, not with Jordan probably having assistants in his office who were not cleared.

Shaking all that off, Daniel dialed the university office number of Dr. Jordan.

“Uh, yes, Dr. Jordan please?” he said as soon as someone picked up the phone. He tucked his under his chin, opening up his computer files related to the Ancient legacy device.  
_  
“This is Dr. Gardner, but I’m afraid he isn’t in. May I take a message?”  
_  
Daniel wasn’t prepared to hear the warm British tones. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d known Sarah was still working with Jordan. But this... “Uh, let him know Dr. Daniel Jackson called?” he barely got out without stumbling.  
_  
“Daniel?”  
_  
“It’s been a long time, Sarah,” he said, not sure what to read from her shocked tone. That, at least, was true.  
_  
“Three years,”_ he heard her voice come through the line, flatter than even the phone distortion made it.

There was a long pause. “Well, I’ll just call back later.”  
_  
“Yes, I’m sure that will be acceptable,”_ Sarah said coolly.

Daniel put his phone back on the hook, and sighed. An empty day, free for any impression, and this was how it started.

There was a reason he’d chosen this life. A reason he still lived on base, rather than vouching for Sha’re to come home with him to his apartment in the “real” world. And it would still be valid for a while yet.

ooooooo

The next morning, Jolinar was stunned to see the organization of the Doriens (the only name Sam could devise, since it was only in her mind that she would use it). She and Sam had seen that they were cooperating somehow, before, as they slowly rebelled against their Jaffa commanders. She could not have guessed the extent, however.

The Abydonians had started it. Creot and Inchen she had met before, and they led well from the head. Nirishi managed the structure, however. She was not young and fiery, but well into middle age and only quietly strong. Her labors had been the first to unite both Abydonians and those who had never known freedom, and nearly half of the planet now looked to her in some way. All of them were accounted for, and all of them kept aware of whatever went on. Creot might tell Inchen to test the limits, but it was Nirishi who kept everything low key.

Jolinar stayed with her during this day. She was responsible for the food production, and managed to smuggle Jolinar in; the Jaffa did not pay close attention to such trivial things as rations preparation, only what products went in and came out.

They’d practiced using single words, quietly spoken in the Abydonian that the Jaffa didn’t know, as a way to transfer information to everyone in the know on the planet. If a new plan was made, all the Doriens would know within the day. They already knew of “Devret”, or of Coron’s return, rather. And if Devret wanted to command them to do something else, they would be swiftly ready.

Jolinar barely left the dark smoky building where Nirishi and others prepared the food, but when she did, she managed to see from the edges of the settlement how orderly were all the slaves involved. And she started to see more and more possibilities.

Night came again, and Sam’s encouragement was barely necessary. Darkness filled the packed quarters where the “leaders” of the Doriens gathered.

“There is almost a plan,” Jolinar said in a low voice. “But it will require that which does not come naturally. What do any of you know of the Free Jaffa?”

Only one voice spoke up, a woman called Oraea. “A myth?”

“No,” Jolinar answered. “No, that is what the false gods would have us all believe.”

A gentle murmur rippled through the crowd.

“Without the Jaffa, what would the Goa’uld be?” Jolinar continued. “Nothing. And they know this well. It is why they train their Jaffa from birth to be the children of falsehood, and make them the enemies of those who are no more slaves. The Jaffa are just as much slaves as you, unable to rebel lest they lose their lives and the lives of their children.”

Following closely on her last words, Jolinar could hear that the people listened.

“So we will free you all from the hands of the Goa’uld. Some Jaffa have already rebelled for good, and have survived. Before this planet can be freed from Quetesh, the same must be done with her Jaffa here.”

“Surely it will not work with them all,” said Drego in a quiet but earnest tone.

That was probably true, but Sam had high hopes. “It does not need to be unanimous,” Jolinar said. And there was always the power of the contagion of rebellion.

Hope for freedom drowned out all other prejudices, Jolinar saw, as she continued to talk. Sam could understand that, could see how their minds had been opened to so many things, so that seeing themselves as equals of the Jaffa was only a small step. And it would mean more numbers to face Quetesh with.

Jolinar explained the plan, explained how Tirnin was not a Goa’uld but another spy, to bring down Quetesh from within her own ranks. Devret would lead the Doriens and all Free Jaffa that they converted against Quetesh, and they would defend themselves and drive out all her influence from this planet. That would be an example to others, and as a drop in a pool of water the ripples would spread, as the people would take up Quetesh’s arms to use against her.

The sheer thrill of the endeavor, untinged by the worries that plagued Jolinar and Sam, filtered through the Doriens like wind through a flapping door. The grandeur, the audaciousness, and the chance of success—each effort became more focused, as hope sprung vibrant in every heart, giving more reason to appear as whatever role was theirs.

With each hour, they were becoming more connected. With each new day, something like an army would come closer to being, united under leadership chosen rather than assigned. Jolinar felt the spread of her influence, and though she had not taken it by force, the power was still there. No longer alone, little fears started to fade away for good with no effort from her.

When morning came, she had the Doriens on the lookout for Jaffa rebellion. Two reports came back quickly, of Jaffa seen arguing amongst themselves about what Quetesh might or might not know. Doubt. Any was good. And as Jolinar walked the perimeters, she saw the discord more closely than the Doriens could. They still saw their captors, but Sam and Jolinar had lived with the Jaffa as subordinates.  
_  
~They sense something wrong about this whole situation,~_ said Sam.  
_  
*All reports said that this world has been crudely handled since our absence.*_

~And with the seeds we sowed before, it must be even more a mess.~

*Everything is seething underneath the apparent calm,* Jolinar remarked, as she one Jaffa strike out at a Dorien, only to find himself approached by a Jaffa further up in the hierarchy, and rebuked in some subtle way. The Jaffa had been a harsh race, but never blunt or entirely brutal.

Sam noted next the disorder of the Jaffa, and how little they noted what the Doriens did. No one remarked on productivity, demanding more of it. They merely frowned, as if unsure whether they really wanted this.

And things on the planet still festered after the destruction of the temple. There was no shadow on the settlement in the morning, and only the mountains to the west offered shade in the afternoon. A stench hung where the rubble was slowly disappearing, and a new platform set into place. There was no eagerness, though, only drudgery, on all sides. The heat could explain much, as could the destruction of morale because of disaster, still an unsolved mystery to the people of this world.

But even more, Quetesh had let things slip. When things were well, her laxness served in her favor. Now, she should have held the ropes tight, ordered everything perfectly in line. Instead she’d let it fail, not establishing proper leadership quickly and permanently.

And just as Sam thought that maybe things were getting close, Quetesh was on their heels again.

Jolinar felt the moment of panic first when the gate activated. No warning, and the timing was all wrong. Even from the edge, completely out of reach, she recognized who was coming through. Quetesh was back.

“What do we do?” asked Nirishi, breathing in slowly from where she stood behind Sam.

Heart pounding in her chest and mind, Sam managed to say in an even voice, “Nothing is connected to us yet.”  
_  
*But this could influence us, even if—_* Jolinar managed.

Sam knew that. She could feel the sand falling faster from their hourglass, and they had only just started. What disaster would Quetesh bring this time?

Standing in the shelter of the treeline, Sam just watched Quetesh’s envoy go to the Jaffa commander’s housing, and disappear within. Then, for hours, nothing happened.

Their signals had already improved, and soon Sam heard that no one knew why she had come. She had given no demands, to either Jaffa or slaves.

“And if there is some demand?” Inchen asked Sam, more worried.

Sam bit her lip, understanding his question. What if Quetesh demanded a price in blood, for some unknown reason? Or some equally disastrous request? What escape was set in place? “I’m not sure yet,” she said.

“We are all ready to fight for whatever you want,” Inchen assured her, leaning in close.

Sam shook her head. “Don’t assume. Not yet.”

She’d barely been back on the planet two days. As the night shifts started, and Quetesh still stayed within the housing, Sam and Jolinar got closer to the village. The Jaffa spoke worriedly among themselves, not caring who heard. Quetesh seemed upset, but why come like that? What did she mean? In the shadows cast by flickering torches, Sam flitted among them, almost invisible in her near-camouflage robes.  
_  
~We didn’t come back too soon at all,~_ she said to Jolinar, heart still pounding.

The tone was dangerous around every corner, and Sam came back to her hidden hideaway among the Doriens with a whole variety of worries. But most of all, that things were too volatile. Too much tension, too much to judge what direction they’d snap if the tension was suddenly and forcefully broken. And that was sure to happen.

But the hope was still new in them, too, and that had to mean something.


	5. Impulse

Jolinar felt that they had to sleep, but every dream was too close to reality, and every time they woke the worries came back. The plan, the plan was grand and simple and lived in abstractions. The moment they stepped foot on Dorieth, the moment the Jaffa and Doriens were faces that weren’t predictable, the moment Quetesh was there in person and not just a shadowy figure—then the little moments counted immediately, and the plan had to change with each one.

The sun barely scraped over the horizon when Quetesh’s first order went out, through her Jaffa. Shadows still shrouded most of the settlement, and when Sam woke, Jolinar was already up and hidden more. The Doriens rose swiftly and went to work, making sure no one could suspect them.

In the cool dimness of morning, Jolinar slipped out of the building and up the nearest hill to a small tree cluster. The Jaffa gave more orders, and faster, this morning, and Jolinar glanced over to the commander’s house as if she might see an answer written on the walls.  
_  
~I would think she wanted to wait until something better was built for her to stay in.~  
_  
Jolinar frowned, analyzing the Jaffa’s movement.

Traffic slowed instantly towards the temple ruins, but the distribution evaded Jolinar at first. From this spot, she could only just barely see across to where the road dipped down to the fields. Many Doriens were being directed down there, but even more seemed to be moving around the settlement itself, their movement almost like scrambling from Jolinar’s point of view.  
_  
~And what about the quarries, or the lumber?~_ Sam asked.

Jolinar glanced up, and saw limited movement. The sun was rising slowly, and it finally glinted into Jolinar’s eye. She squinted, looking back at the main settlement and chewing the inside of her lip._ *She consolidated the slave presence.*_

~Is that why she’s here? It would make barely any sense.~

The question was rhetorical, and that was good, given the limited information. The day started to pass, and information trickled back to Sam and Jolinar. Nayron reported that Quetesh had not come with any escorts other than Jaffa and a lotar. Only moments later, Vishepa passed along that while Quetesh’s Jaffa were impassive, the ones of Dorieth now looked worried.

Though that could hardly add to their worry, Sam and Jolinar were nevertheless glad when the hints turned into clearer facts. An hour before midday, there was a sudden new order. Drego passed where Jolinar stationed herself, and the quick message was that Quetesh wanted a tour of Dorieth.

Jolinar crept downhill, behind the nearest building, and then into the empty housing where she and the Dorien leaders had been meeting. She changed her outer robe for a more voluminous one, pulling back her hair tightly out of the way. A thin scrap of pale fabric wrapped around her head and snaked around her neck, changing just enough of her silhouette. As Doriens scurried back to stand ready for Quetesh’s appearance, Jolinar breathed out. _*Samantha?*  
_  
Sam didn’t understand at first, as the control was proffered, then realized that Jolinar’s inner control was barely sound enough to think of Quetesh. Were she to try and control their body too, she might snap with the strain. That thought alone reminded Sam that just because she’d successfully repressed so much didn’t mean that she’d forgotten.

The sun shone down unimpeded from a blue sky. Sam’s brow furrowed, and she could feel the slight warping of the scar on her face as she did so. Her head ducked slightly as she stood in the back of those slaves who lined the roads.

This house was on a slight hill, so they could all see Quetesh as she left her temporary dwelling. Then she moved swiftly, surrounded by personal Jaffa and tailed closely by a brilliantly clad lotar. Not even pausing, she swung her head from the left to the right and back again, hair swinging. She drew closer to Sam and Jolinar, and they noticed the bright light of her eyes as she did so, absorbing what she saw with more than a little emotion. But she barely passed by them at all, turning sharply down the road towards the quarries.

“Do not return to work!” snapped one of the Jaffa, close enough for Sam and Jolinar to hear clearly. “Hold yourself!”

Sam slid closer into the group, finding Creot. “I assume you don’t know much?”

Creot barely turned his head to her, speaking without moving his lips. “What could I know? Quetesh is holding all secrets to herself.”

Sam didn’t feel any surprise. It seemed like an hour they stood there, and then Quetesh was coming back down the roads. Her sapphire-blue dress shone in the sunlight, and swept behind her with each long stride. Sam still couldn’t read anything in her face exactly, and Jolinar neither. The road had been repaired since the explosion, and Quetesh followed it down to the fields. Again, Sam stood with the Doriens and waited with swallowed breath.

Drego, a few paces ahead, threw a small glance back after another half hour. There was nothing happening, either physically or mentally, but Sam felt like there should be. Just as she was steeling herself for another calm wait, the slightest of murmurs ran through all the assembled Doriens, and she saw Quetesh rise from the valley below.

A few minutes later, and Sam realized that Quetesh was heading towards the center of the settlement. There was no way she could get closer, so she just squinted her eyes and watched carefully.

As soon as Quetesh passed, suddenly the murmur became audible, and Sam felt her worry rise. In the main square that had once led up to the temple steps, Quetesh turned. A fresh breeze blew from behind her, and hit Sam full on the face, but she still couldn’t hear the words. No need, though, as they started being passed down.

“She sees no reason why we should be surprised at this,” Nirishi said in Abydonian, just loud enough for the small group to here. “Her disappointment is grave. Our focus was too wide, and our control too lax.”

“Our focus? That she ordered?” Inchen broke in, his Abydonian also quiet, though emotionally packed.   
_  
*She realized that she was too easy.*  
_  
“Our devotion has been flawed, and now we must remember exactly what it was for,” Nirishi continued.

Jolinar didn’t like the sound of that any more than Sam.

“We are to tear down this village, and—finish the foundation and build some kind of structure,” Nirishi said, her voice catching, words more obviously paraphrase. “Tonight.”

Sam’s gaze had defocused, but it sharply went back to Quetesh. The false goddess hadn’t changed that she could see, standing tall and still, the light breeze flapping both dress and hair.

“Tonight,” said Inchen in a low voice. “Or what?”

“Or she will find a new world to turn her will towards.” Nirishi let the last information passed along hang for a second before she let out a long, shaky breath.

Their group didn’t start murmuring first, but the rise in noise hit Sam only then.

“She can’t abandon us,” Creot said. “That is not—”

“That is not the Goa’uld way,” said Sam, as she and Jolinar caught on with a frown. “She means to imply that if she is not obeyed, she will finish this world for good.”

Quetesh had finished speaking, and was walking back up to the commander’s quarters. Jaffa started barking out orders, and most of the Doriens were hastening to follow.

“Why?” Inchen asked, as Creot and Nirishi managed to quickly move away with Sam, just for a few minutes.  
_  
~It’s not very good leadership,~_ Sam said in her head, still formulating thoughts.  
_  
*It is not a good situation,*_ Jolinar said, then caught on.

“She must do this,” Jolinar said aloud. “She has no other choice.”

The two Dorien leaders turned to her, and Inchen paused a moment. They had slipped beneath a canopy on the far side of one of the buildings.

Jolinar continued at the speed of her thoughts. “Somehow she is desperate, or desperate for her ground forces. Her plan was devastated by the ruining of the temple, and so now she has a world that is eating away at all her resources and numbers. To transfer vast numbers would scream that her mind has changed, that she made a mistake. It wouldn’t be natural, and it would tear at her facade of goddesshood. So she turns the apparent choice into your hands and graciously gives you a chance to change her mind. When she knows it is impossible, or nearly so—but it is the appearance that matters.”

“So we are doomed?” Nirishi asked, putting a hand out to touch Jolinar’s.

Jolinar had spoken dispassionately, as the words had come. But Sam had been free to think, and as Jolinar felt her rough interpretation, suddenly the gravity matched Nirishi’s.  
_  
~God, she might destroy the planet today.~_

*No, she doesn’t have a ship. She can’t do that. All she can do is—*

~Decimate the population.~

“This was not expected,” Jolinar said, looking each one of them straight in the eye.

“But it is impossible to escape,” Creot finished the unspoken thought, adding a single nod.

Jolinar sighed.__

~This must have been an impulse on her part.~

*And so now we must be impulsive.*  
  
“We don’t have time,” Sam said. “And neither do you.”

“So we make a stand,” guessed Inchen, shifting closer and lowering his voice.

“Maybe,” Sam said, unsure. “Just go, and be prepared.” She nodded to each of them, then heard the approaching steps of Jaffa.

The Dorien leaders almost vanished as soon as Sam finished speaking, finding their way back into the crowds. Sam took the moment to withdraw back to her former hiding place, watching. Midday was just past, and they had until nightfall. This time of year, they had a couple hours more than usual, given that the sun would pass over a low portion of the mountains. But even then?  
_  
*Unless their performance is beyond what seems possible, Quetesh will find a way to spin it to destruction. She doesn’t want them here, doing this, but if they are exemplary...*_

~But if she doesn’t want Dorieth to stay like this, it doesn’t matter. She needs to either kill or transfer people to make better use of her resources. And if they are all split up—~

*We cannot do anything.*

~Escape or fight, we need to do it tonight.~

ooooooo

Only their third day back, and Sam and Jolinar weren’t ready. Sam’s heart was pounding as she watched what was happening, gathering all the pieces, and her breaths came sharply through a tight jaw.  
_  
~We weren’t supposed to do this. Dorieth isn’t supposed to matter now, so that’s supposed to be okay.~_

*It’s not only about strategy. We always acknowledged that.*

~But what will we do, try and fail just because we have a conscience? Nothing’s ready.~

*You are entirely wrong there. Look.*  
  
Sam again focused her gaze on the settlement, each figure rapidly moving, other than the Jaffa giving more orders than necessary. She caught Jolinar’s point almost instantly; below were desperate people, all of them, understanding the undertones of Quetesh better than Quetesh may have wanted. They’d been protected for so long, they had become complacent, and Quetesh’s power had waned to an impression.  
_  
~But that doesn’t mean that they’ll stop her; they just want to live.~_

*Surely you know what people who want to live are capable of.*

~But who will rebel? The Jaffa? The Doriens? Both?~   
  
Jolinar caught her point. On edge, if a Jaffa rebelled, the others might strike him down. There was even greater chance of Jaffa trying to quell a slave rebellion, rather than join it.  
_  
*What if we don’t let it get that far. What if we take out Quetesh.*  
_  
Sam shivered involuntarily. _~Personally? Assassinate her, you mean.~_

*Yes,* said Jolinar simply. _*Everyone’s troubles are over.*  
_  
Sam violently shook her head, feeling the worry mix with a sudden revulsion that almost felt like panic._ ~No, wait, no. Quetesh is—Quetesh is a Goa’uld. You can’t just assassinate like—~  
_  
Jolinar didn’t need the words. Her cold desire faded swiftly, quelling Sam’s fear._ *The host. I beg pardon.*_

~No, it’s fine,~ Sam said._ ~I was upset at myself. I almost forgot too.~_ She glanced down, repeating to herself that she did not see Quetesh. She saw an innocent woman who Quetesh used.

Jolinar restructured her plan almost instantly, however._ *But I was not wrong. Taking out the head is always the best policy. More powerfully, though. Death could be a lucky shot. All they need is the push to rebel, some sense of safety.*_

~But Quetesh does pose a danger, personally. So we need to incapacitate her without killing her. What is her one weapon?~

*Her voice to command.*

~Or the hand device,~ Sam countered, focusing on the distant figure of the Goa’uld. _~And when it is disabled, we take her down during the distraction. She is only as capable as her guard and her own strength.~_

*Yes,* Jolinar said, heart starting to blaze with the plan. Sam gave her control, let her pace a moment as she thought. She looked down, watched where Quetesh stood on the balcony of the commanders’ dwelling, eyeing the proceedings even in the hot sun. She visualized getting close enough, throwing a knife or firing an arrow straight into that hand, and then darting close for the kill. But her visualization included the Jaffa guards, who wouldn’t let her that close.  
_  
~We have to get one of them, somehow,~_ said Sam._ ~We can’t do this alone.~_

*We don’t have time,* protested Jolinar. She quickly reminded Sam of all the Jaffa they’d been watching, none of them quite ready to trust unconditionally.  
_  
~I didn’t say a real one,~_ Sam said suddenly. She remembered the armory, its location, and the concealing power of Jaffa armor. One of the Doriens could hold during the distraction, ready to let Sam and Jolinar.

Jolinar had a better idea. _*No, this is all about impressions. Including that of Quetesh as leader. We must be the Jaffa. We must be Coron again. Coron was banished in disgrace, assumedly dealt with—until we come back to shame Quetesh personally. In that moment, we will have all ears and all power.*  
_  
Sam realized that she didn’t want to think about Coron. That role had been driven into the ground, and she didn’t see enough strength to bring it back.

Just then, Drego ran up the hill, glancing behind himself. “Devret,” he said. “Is there a plan?”

“Is there news?” Jolinar asked.

He shook his head, brow wrinkled.

“Perhaps,” Jolinar answered his first question. She looked at him closely. “Are your people ready to fight for their freedom?”

Drego blinked. “But of course.”

“Now?” Jolinar emphasized.

“We may die today, or some of us,” Drego said. “We will not let that happen easily.”

“Well, it will happen,” Jolinar said. Off Drego’s slight jerk, she continued swiftly. “The fight. We hope to take out Quetesh personally, which means that all of you must be ready to cooperate to finish the job.”

Drego hesitated. “What does that mean?”

“It means you may not attack the Jaffa without provocation at that point,” Jolinar said, stepping closer. “If all goes well, they will be joining you, upon our words.”

Drego nodded, eyes clearing. “So you will confront Quetesh somehow, and expose her falsehood for all?”

“Spread the word,” Jolinar said with a nod.

Drego darted back, and Jolinar breathed out.  
_  
~I don’t know if we should have told him that so quickly,~_ Sam said.  
_  
*We need to keep watch, that is all.*  
_  
And so, even though they could not see it externally, Dorieth prepared for a kind of rebellion. Sam and Jolinar watched from their position, hoping Quetesh thought they would still be reeling from her demand. Had Sam and Jolinar not been in this position, they would be—but had they not been banished from their former position, Quetesh would not have been so desperate. The urgency and guilt swelled slowly, as Sam and Jolinar both tried to regulate what was happening.

ooooooo

Daylight faded fast, and Sam found flaws in the plan. Neither she nor Jolinar trusted their aim with a knife, no matter how close they got to the balcony. And the Jaffa wouldn’t carry something like a bow. Somehow they had to deal with Quetesh’s hand device, and it came down to expediency in the end. Jolinar had brought the small Tok’ra weapon, and that would have to work. Their aim was good, and they trusted that the damage to Quetesh’s host’s hand would be minimal. It had to be. At least she would be free, if this worked.

The closer things got, the more Sam tried to focus on the host. She’d almost forgotten after all this time what it was like. Her first exposure to the Goa’uld had been through Sha’re—now, she’d seen them from the Tok’ra side, seen the vast network. And one host had simply not stuck out.

Jolinar didn’t like this any more than Sam, and so as darkness came, they watched Quetesh and thought of what they would do. Once in Jaffa armor, they would sneak slowly close, then at the right moment fire the weapon. In the slight confusion, they would rush up with staff weapon, strike down Quetesh at the knees, and then shoot or knock out the few Jaffa who stood near her. By that point, the others would not dare fire, because they intended to have Quetesh in a headlock, fully at their mercy.

On the other side of things, even with the haste, Quetesh’s demand had been more impossible than it might have been. Only the beginnings of a structure were arising on the foundation where the temple had been, and light was almost gone. Any moment now.

Sam finally dropped away and went to the armory. She slipped out of her slave garb, and back into the stiff and heavy Jaffa armor. It brought a heavy taste to her mouth, but she swallowed it. Shaking her hair loose, she used the scarf material as a kind of head tie across her forehead, to cover up where a Jaffa tattoo might be.

Swallowing again, holding herself differently, she slipped back out and up towards the commanders’ building where Quetesh still stood.

As she walked, there was a sudden hush of noise. She came behind the house, just in time to hear Quetesh speak.

“And this is your worship of me?”

The words were easy, if loud.

“A shame that you purport it to be true, and not the disgrace to all of your kind that you are.”

It was happening, before nightfall. Swearing inwardly, Sam rushed a little more, climbing the stairs on the right side of the building as quietly as she could.

*We’re doing it,* Jolinar said, just so that they would acknowledge it.

Sam reached the top. The five Jaffa guarding Quetesh stood close to her as she spoke out over the settlement, all silent now, and clearly unfinished.

But as Quetesh opened her mouth to speak again, Sam decided that she didn’t need to hear it. Taking the last step forward, she acted before the Jaffa might take their weapons to do Quetesh’s next command. Sliding the weapon onto her fingers, she took a deep breath, inhaled, and then bent to the side to aim just for Quetesh’s right hand.

One Jaffa turned slightly at the noise, but Sam fired. There was a flash of light, and the bolt hit Quetesh’s hand squarely. She hissed in sharply, bending to clutch her hand. Sam didn’t see the rest. The weapon securely rested on her hand, and so she took the staff with two hands, pummeling the first Jaffa with the top, then swinging it under her other hand to hit the next Jaffa under the chin. Another broad swing, another Jaffa fell.

But she didn’t have enough time, and the other Jaffa held their weapons ready to kill. Cursing that anyone had to be hurt, she brought up her right hand, and fired two shots with the Tok’ra weapon. The Jaffa fell, the shots in their shoulders.

Quetesh hadn’t had time to turn, and only just looked up as Sam was at her throat. The exhilaration of adrenaline pumping through her, and Jolinar’s emotion suddenly flaring up, Sam grabbed Quetesh’s dark hair with one hand. She gripped near the scalp, yanking back hard, and then whipped out the small knife in her boot to hold at Quetesh’s throat.

The Goa’uld seemed almost in shock, and the beginnings of a struggle ended as soon as the knife came out. “Jolinar!” she hissed.

But Sam was looking out. Jaffa had come running, weapons raised but not ready to fire.

“Shoot!” shouted Quetesh harshly.

Sam pushed the knife against her throat harder, cutting off some of her air. “No, that isn’t what’s going to happen,” she hissed.

The Doriens were gathering, tools held as weapons, preparing to do whatever came next. Some stood around, not knowing what was going on. Others glanced to the Jaffa, nervously. But they were all coming close.  
_  
~What do I say?~_ asked Sam, a brief second all she had.

Jolinar only had the emotions, the thoughts. But that was push enough for Sam.

“So here we are,” Sam called, her voice carrying across the immediate area as Quetesh’s had. “Ready to fight. And look at you.” She stared straight at the nearest Jaffa. “Protecting your goddess, no? Of course, because a goddess need protection. A goddess can’t do anything for herself, that’s why she needs faithful slaves and even more faithful Jaffa.”

Sam heard Quetesh’s breath hiss out beneath her, but she held tightly on. “That’s not what she told you—but it seems that it is the truth. For here I stand, one whom Quetesh was meant to have disgraced for good, and yet I brought down the great goddess without a fight.”

The Jaffa didn’t move, one way or the other.

“If nothing else, Quetesh lied to you,” said Sam. “And if she is so worthy of worship, why do that? But I’m not going to have that argument. If Quetesh is a god, then she is a poor one in reality. She did not protect you, and now she cannot protect herself. So I am going to take her, and her lies, away from you. I am going to take her up to the chappa’ai.”

She gripped Quetesh’s hair tighter, wrenching her to her feet.

“Coward!” whispered Quetesh through the knife pressed against her windpipe.

“Victor,” Sam whispered back in the moment, then looked back to the Jaffa and Doriens below her. “If you think that such a pathetic being, who has never raised a hand to protect you, is deserving of your minds and hearts and hands—then take your stand and stop me. For Quetesh will not. She has no powers more than any one of us, and if I am wrong, then I am willing to be struck down.”

Two Jaffa ran forward as Sam started dragging Quetesh back, but Sam held the Goa’uld as a near-perfect shield and didn’t hesitate. _~They respect power, authority—they won’t back down so easily, even for this.~  
_  
And with her breath held, she dragged Quetesh off the balcony. Everything was absolutely silent, and almost as still, until she reached the bottom stair. Quetesh stumbled, and Sam held her by her hair, roughly, and pulled her to her feet. Not a Jaffa moved.

She crossed the courtyard, straight for a crowd of Doriens standing in the road to the gate. They started to part, and she saw Inchen. Nodding slightly, she walked through the gap between them, her back now towards the nearest Jaffa. Foolhardy. Reckless. The adrenaline flowing through her veins told her that she was winning and nothing could stop her.

Behind her, Inchen slammed the wooden staff he held into the paving stones. “Quetesh is a false god!” he cried. “And now we are free.”

The Jaffa ahead of Sam flinched, reaching for their weapons, as the Doriens started pounding a rhythm where they stood, sending vibrations up the r oad to Sam’s feet.

“What are you doing?” Sam demanded loudly as she approached, above the rising noise of the rhythm drumming. “Shoot or not, but if not, then leave the weapons aside. Quetesh has no hold on you. You are free.”

Quetesh managed a faint scream, but Sam pressed the knife closer, until a drop of blood appeared. The Jaffa looked faint, but their weapons drooped. That was enough. Doubt was enough. Sam walked straight past them, all but dragging what had once been their god.  
_  
*We will not die,*_ Jolinar said, as both Jaffa and Doriens moved in towards the settlement past them, leaving the road open ahead.

Sam realized that her breath was held again, and she let it out, breathing in again sharply._ ~No, we won’t.~  
_  
And the adrenaline was turning into triumph, and a bitter anger was forming out of their earlier fear. Let the Tok’ra deal with the aftermath and the timing; Quetesh would be dead as soon as they reached the base, and that was all that mattered.

They reached the gate, and Sam let the knife off of Quetesh’s throat as she quickly dialed the Tok’ra base.

Quetesh almost struggled, but Sam’s hand still gripped her hair tightly. And then, up from behind them, came one unified cry. Punctuated by the pounding rhythm of feet and staves, one long shout of triumph filled the entire valley.

“They are free,” Sam said aloud, letting the words grate close to Quetesh’s ear. She almost felt joy, but more than ever she just wanted it over.

Then Jolinar took control for the moment, and let her voice ring out metallic. “Simply be glad, Quetesh, that I am not letting their hands on you.”

As Sam got control back as the gate whooshed open, she gave one glance back to Dorieth. In the moment, the Doriens were on top of things. That would have to do. There was so much left, but only a couple urgent things.

And her dominant emotion was satisfaction as she brought back Quetesh herself to the Tok’ra base for execution. Oh no, they had not failed on this mission.


	6. Hindsight

Even though Dixon’s words as he looked into Daniel’s lab were, “Jackson, problem!”, his face gave Daniel no real worry.

“What kind of problem?” Daniel asked, following as Dixon jogged down the hall.

“Not the Colonel’s, and only maybe Teal’c’s,” said Dixon with a tight grin.

“Which is oddly cryptic,” Daniel said, frowning. “McKay and Teal’c?” he guessed incredulously.

Dixon let out a short, barking laugh. “Strangely, yes.”

Only a couple minutes more, and Daniel saw the situation himself. There was McKay, there was Teal’c, standing on one side of the lab. McKay’s arms were crossed in front, and Teal’c’s in back, but they stood resolutely. And oddly together. The other side of the lab held Jean, and surprisingly, Sha’re. Daniel blinked at that, as well as at Jean’s defensive pose, even as Sha’re didn’t appear more than determined.

The real problem, though, was Hammond. “No, Dr. Miller, you have not explained it well enough,” he blustered.

“I told you all that I was responsible for,” Jean said, waving with her hand. “It was safe, and it was all made clear.”

“Are you saying that it is Dr. McKay’s fault?” Hammond demanded.

“God forbid I do that, sir,” Jean said shortly, tossing the briefest of glares at her brother.

Hammond didn’t have time to correct her tone, as McKay broke in. Daniel, standing silent with Dixon at the door, was instantly surprised.

“There is no fault,” McKay said with emphasis. “Teal’c was injected, but he submitted to it, and is not giving any objection now. He’s a member of this base just like anyone else.”

“He is an ally,” Hammond answered. “And genetic modifications of allies are not allowed.”

“It’s not truly genetic,” McKay tossed back. “Which you would know, if you actually cared about the science that is such a huge part of your base.”

“McKay!” came a snappy voice from behind Daniel’s head, and he turned swiftly to see Jack arriving.

“I’m not apologizing,” McKay protested. “All we did was devise a way for anyone to control Goa’uld devices, and we needed a way to test it.”

 “On Teal’c?” Jack asked, shaking his head. “What? That makes no sense.”

“He volunteered,” McKay said in less excited tone, glaring at them all.

Daniel raised his eyebrow, blinking, as he looked up to Dixon. Dixon shrugged, indicating that nothing was different since he had left to find Daniel.

“The point is that you were all out of line,” Hammond said, still firm. He turned to Jean, asking hardly, “Is that treatment permanent?”

Jean appeared to struggle not to shrug. “Possibly.”

“It’s simple, people,” Hammond said, looking at them all for a second. “There will be no, I repeat, no, genetic modifications to any person on this base without my permission. No modifications whatsoever,” he added, as McKay almost opened his mouth.

“But this was approved,” Jean protested slightly.

“It’s not approved for anything but theoretical research, which is what you were mainly hired for,” Hammond declared. Then, as much as the man could, he turned on his heel to leave.

Daniel and Dixon stepped aside.

“What?” Jack asked as an open-ended question, walking into the lab with his arm flung out.

“I am now capable of operating a Goa’uld hand device,” said Teal’c, matter-of-fact and maybe a little satisfied as well.

“Oh Jesus,” Jack sighed.

Daniel glanced to the right the same moment Jack did.

“What am I going to do with all of you?” Jack demanded. “And Sha’re, I thought you were supposed to be sensible.”

“It was a perfectly safe procedure,” Sha’re said simply. “And I did not make the decision, I only provided the material for the modification.”

Jack sighed.

“So, d’you figure out what gene makes you all want to play the odds?” Dixon asked in a faux-innocent tone.

Sha’re just gave him a look as she crossed the room to join Daniel.

“You know, Jack, why are you always getting on _me_ again?” Daniel asked.

“I don’t know, Daniel,” Jack said with a sigh, leaving the lab. “Dust never changed anyone’s DNA, that I know of.” He tossed a slight glare to Teal’c.

“But perhaps dust has not had such a valuable military advantage,” Teal’c said.

And when Daniel glanced up, he was certain this time—the Jaffa was smug. Sha’re was smiling when he looked to her, and so he just shook his head and put an arm around her waist. Poor Hammond, poor Jack, and possibly even poor Dixon. They’d have to learn eventually how much science they’d placed around them.

ooooooo

Coming down off the adrenaline high was a bitch, as Sam and Jolinar came home with Quetesh in hand. Shan’ak called for the Tok’ra guards immediately, but they only had a quick ring transport down before the questions were asked. Sam felt her limbs start to tremble as Jolinar gave the briefest of answers to everything.

Quetesh was taken from them, sedated, and only then did Sam start to focus on those around her. At first there were only secondary Tok’ra, whom Jolinar ignored. But then she saw her father approach.

“What have you done?” Jacob asked.

“What was necessary for the mission,” Jolinar said wearily.

Jacob started a word, then frowned. Reaching out a hand, somewhat gingerly, he put it on Jolinar’s arm. “You’re pale.”

Jolinar frowned too, then sat on the nearest bench. She didn’t feel that out of it, but the burn and the buzz of excitement was gone.

“I assume you are not injured?” Selmak then spoke.

Jolinar shook her head shortly. The fade of emotions left her a little confused on what had just happened.

“Then you must explain yourself, quickly, before another of the Council comes,” said Selmak firmly. “This is not at all what was expected, Jolinar.”

“There was no choice,” Jolinar said, looking up to face him. “The planet was at stake, and so we acted on our opportunity.”

“And the plan that we so carefully protected?” Selmak asked.

Jolinar could see how much he tried not to show his frustration, or at least upset. “You are not listening.”

Selmak sighed. “And so you just changed the plan, because you thought there was no choice.”

“Would you have passed up the opportunity?” Jolinar said, almost demanding. “What is better, that a planet of innocents be destroyed, or that one of the most vicious of Goa’uld’s be in our hands to meet justice at last?”

Selmak looked to Jolinar slowly, and paused before finally speaking. “Which of her lieutenants do you suppose will take over her empire?”

“I do not know, and I do not care,” Jolinar snapped.

Sam wasn’t so sure. She was trying to find all the rational thoughts that had been there, before Quetesh declared an ultimatum and shortened their time. _~We did exactly what Quetesh did; made a desperate move and threw a wrench in plans.~  
_  
“With every word,” Selmak said aloud, sighing, “you are simply saying that you were too emotionally involved, and should not have been allowed.”

“Only if you would have been prepared to accept the loss of an entire planet,” said Jolinar. “And only if you think the capture of Quetesh is nothing.” She just wanted to focus on that.

“It is not nothing,” Selmak acknowledged. “But neither is whatever is out of order in Quetesh’s empire, which we will have to deal with if the plan is thoroughly carried out.”

Selmak was not wrong. Sam and Jolinar only had a couple more minutes before the rest of the Council currently on base called for their report, and they stood before them. Jolinar kept control, still supporting the decision she and Sam had made. Inside, though, Sam slowly felt her heart sinking, and Jolinar was coming down with her.

All the time Martouf and Lantash had spent gathering information about Quetesh’s fleet—it could easily be wiped away as soon as the power vacuum caused a struggle. Maybe the Doriens and the Jaffa would cooperate without their god, but the chance of struggle was much more likely. Sam and Jolinar had only left with Quetesh, leaving no guiding influence at all.   
_  
~We really were driven by emotion, right? I don’t remember feeling it, though.~_

*Not all emotion is easily recognizable,* Jolinar said in the pause, as the Council spoke among themselves.

But finally, it was over. All the Council said was that Quetesh would be executed, and Sam and Jolinar would be on a short leave. Another Tok’ra representative would be sent to Dorieth, to minimally manage damage control until Sam and Jolinar were in any shape to return. Until then, Sam and Jolinar’s duty would be to take care of Quetesh’s host, did she recover fully.

Jolinar paused. “I would know the reason for this, not that I object.”

“Your history with Sha’re  is considered an asset,” said Ren’al coolly. “That is all.”

Jolinar nodded, and took her leave. They stood for a few minutes in the hall.  
_  
~Quetesh is really gone, or will be in a few minutes,~_ Sam said. _~Why doesn’t that feel better?~  
_  
Jolinar sighed. _*Her absence is just that, absence. Her actions have not been reversed.*_

~But they won’t be repeated,~ Sam said, to herself._ ~Jolinar, I’m just tired.~_

*A bath?*

~That would be great.~

ooooooo

“So, apparently there was a lot you didn’t tell me,” Daniel said, as he walked with Sha’re.

“There is always a lot I do not tell you,” answered Sha’re.

Daniel half-smiled. “Yes, but genetic research?”

Sha’re shrugged. “It was not as much as it sounds.”

They walked on a few steps more, when suddenly Sha’re stopped. Daniel almost stumbled, his arm still resting around her waist. “What?” he asked.

“You are right about one thing,” Sha’re admitted, frowning. “I have not told you perhaps all that you should know.”

“Oh?” Daniel turned to face her, anticipating something he knew not what.

“I may have mentioned it once in passing, but only Doctor Frasier paid attention, I think,” said Sha’re. “Shifu is, as you put it, genetically modified.”

Daniel’s mouth sagged a little. “What?” Surely, he’d remember this, even in passing.

“As the child of two hosts, he was born with the Goa’uld genetic memory,” Sha’re said, looking him the eye with a fragile gaze. “It would have infected his mind, and even in his infancy it caused nightmares. The Tok’ra had a way to, what is the word, inhibit it. It was done some time ago, and should not ever affect our child again.”

“I—I don’t remember that at all,” Daniel said, brow creasing. He didn’t know what to do with his arms, so instead they just hung there.

“I thought you might not,” said Sha’re, slightly wincing. “But I did not think it something you needed to think about, when there is nothing to be done.”

“Nothing to be done?” Daniel asked, stumbling a little over the words. “But he could have the memories of a Goa’uld.”

“That is just it, Daniel,” Sha’re said, stepping closer and putting out her hand before he could fidget. “If the Tok’ra were correct, then he will remember nothing. That part of him is suppressed. But we cannot know one way or another without the help of the Tok’ra.”

Those last words fell in a slightly lower tone, and Sha’re scarcely held his gaze.

Daniel breathed out. “I see.” And Sha’re couldn’t contact the Tok’ra any more than the SGC could. There was only the slightest, remotest chance that a future contact would come from their end. From Sam. Daniel had viewed it as such a far out possibility, it was almost out of his mind altogether.

“Since this argument about genetics came up today, it reminded me that you should at least be aware,” Sha’re said, breathing out and loosening a little. “But really, Dan’yel, Shifu is fine.”

Daniel smiled, bringing up his other hand to squeeze hers. “I’m sure he is.”

They continued walking to wherever they were going—Daniel didn’t know, as Sha’re was leading. Just when he was almost viewing his family as normal, given how Sha’re was integrating, life reminded him how extraordinary he was. And yet, he felt no wonder. Only a renewed desire to have Shifu in his arms more often, to make continually sure that he was indeed fine. Poor little guy. Daniel vowed to himself that his son would not have such a rough life as either of his parents, if at all possible.

ooooooo

The warm bath felt sublime, and as Sam let the heat nearly scorch her skin, she remembered that she had once missed the pulsing beat of the shower. No longer. She came to the surface, breathing in the scented steam, and felt Jolinar relaxing in the back of her mind. The mental stress that they hadn’t acknowledged on Dorieth started melting away.  
_  
~Has it gotten that bad, that we don’t even know when we’re upset?~_ Sam asked.

Jolinar didn’t think so. She hesitated, but reminded Sam of the extent of the trauma of only recently. They were only relatively back on top of things, and Sam had to accept that.

Sam closed her eyes and sighed. It was so much easier to forget.  
_  
*No, it is not,* _Jolinar said. _*Do not address it, maybe, but do not try to forget.*  
_  
Sam didn’t know what to think of that, whether good advice or bad or both, and whether any of it was hypocrisy. It didn’t matter. They’d make it, however they would, and it’d have to be somewhat on the fly.

She dried off and ran her fingers through her damp hair, finally twisting it in a small knot at the back of her head. Slipping into a soft brown wrap that was almost leathery, she felt at home again. And now, with a sigh, there was unfinished business.

It made sense to go to the infirmary this time. Jolinar had never seen a Goa’uld symbiote executed, so she had no idea where that was. But by this time, Quetesh would be gone, and Sam and Jolinar were charged with taking care of the host.

They walked past the first few areas before seeing Larys standing, looking at a small device in his hand.

“Samantha, Jolinar,” he acknowledged in a low voice.

“How did it go?” Sam asked, sure he’d know what she meant.

Larys’ face tightened for a moment, but he nodded as if to himself. “Well enough. As soon as Quetesh came to grips with the fact that you beat her...she did not make her end easy. And she was more adept at it than Amonet.”

“So...?” Sam asked, feeling a bit of concern now.

Larys beckoned her to step forward around the wall. Even Jolinar hadn’t realized how much it would jar to see Quetesh and yet not Quetesh. The first sight of that dark hair, and Sam flinched, then had to shake her head as unnoticeably as possible. Her heart had skipped a beat, however, even though she knew, she knew in her head, that there was absolutely no reason anymore. Quetesh was dead. That wasn’t Quetesh. Names were so problematic with symbiotes. That wasn’t Quetesh.

“I do not think Quetesh did permanent damage,” Larys said, as if he had not seen Sam’s reaction. “Physically, I believe she is already on the mend. She responded well to our treatments, and I think she was only a host for a couple decades.”

Sam flinched again, but this time it was the ‘only’, and suddenly her concern was a sharp pang of sympathy. Taking a breath, trying to get past her own issues, she stepped forward a little. Beneath that same dark hair lay the face that should have reminded Sam of Quetesh. But this woman—was not the same. Sam breathed out. Not just that she was clearly unblended, but her face just wasn’t the same. No sharp glint of eyes, no tenseness of the mouth, no firm jaw. Her face was weary, eyes shut, but though part of it was her sleeping, Sam had a feeling that enough would be different once she woke. Then she realized that Larys seemed to be waiting, and she looked back to him.

“She will not wake,” Larys said quietly. “It is not that she is unconscious. Judging from the readings, she is only barely even asleep. But she is not responding to anything that we do.”

The pang dug in harder. “You think Quetesh did something to her mind?” Sam asked, her voice vulnerable.

“It is not impossible,” Larys said, and Sam saw pain behind his eyes, but it was a long pain from more than just this day. “But more, perhaps, she may be doing it to herself. It is not that she cannot wake, I think, but that she does not want to.”  
_  
*She may be frightened,*_ Jolinar said remembering all they had done. _*We unwittingly abused her, while Quetesh was still alive. She may think that we will not know the difference between them.*_

Sam thought of her own waking with Jolinar. The opposite, perhaps, but that mental fear—and who knew what else—was going on in this woman’s mind after almost her entire life was taken.

“If you don’t mind, I think Jolinar and I will stay here tonight, just in case,” Sam said quietly.

Larys turned back to his device after a nod, leaving after a couple minutes.

Sam breathed out, and sat on the bed opposite to Quetesh’s host. The woman was curled in a half fetal position, the hand that Sam had shot bandaged and clasped tightly to her chest. No wonder Larys assumed that it was her choice not to move or wake. Behind the thin eyelids, Sam could see her eyes moving back and forth, perhaps in dreaming. The more she watched, the more she saw little twitches, each one more reassuring than the last. Quetesh did not twitch, Quetesh glided and smoothed with every gesture. Had. Not anymore.  
_  
~It’ll be okay,~_ Sam told herself, lying down on her side facing the other bed, preparing to sleep if the woman did not wake up. _~Ren’al was right. There may be a lot of emotions going on, but that will help here.~_

*If there is any help at all,* Jolinar said, the slight hint of fear and despair creeping in.  
_  
~It’s been a long day for her, don’t give up hope yet,~_ Sam answered, but sleepily now that she was lying still. _~Long years. God, I hope she’s not afraid of us.~_

Jolinar had no answer, just sleepiness. Another thing she wouldn’t admit out loud, but they were not quite ready for Dorieth yet. Acknowledged or not, today’s stress had drained them. Sleep came easily, and would stay for a while.

ooooooo

Sam woke late next morning, and Jolinar was already awake. Waking in her clothes and not under blankets didn’t feel like home—but the clean smell and the way the light refracted off the crystals was instantly reassuring. Jolinar was sitting up, and had smoothed out both her dress and her hair. The latter had dried slightly oddly during the night, but Jolinar had it tied out of the way.

And, there was nothing different on the other side of the infirmary room. The woman who had once looked exactly like Quetesh still lay sleeping, her brow slightly more furrowed, her hand more relaxed, but otherwise just the same. Around her, the soft glow of Tok’ra technology kept watch over her health.

Sam reached around for Jolinar’s emotions, finding them easily. Nothing much at first. Sympathy, regret, worry. But there was more. She worried for Martouf and Lantash, not only what they would do, but what they might think. It was less a concern than this freed host that they must care for, but it weighed on Jolinar. The more time passed, the more Jolinar felt that she had made another rash mistake. Sam pushed in on this, reminding her that it was very much a joint decision, and therefore a joint mistake if it should turn out that way. But it didn’t need to.

And then there was a kind of sympathy, accompanied with emptiness; Jolinar couldn’t empathize with the feelings of a host. Not just because of her past, but because of her very nature. She didn’t quite feel guilty, not yet, but there was some kind of emotion connected with her lack of deep sympathy, and Sam felt it but couldn’t quite identify.  
_  
*Is there anything to do?*_ Jolinar wondered more specifically.

Sam only had her instinct. _~I think she’d rather wake up to someone than alone. Waking up alone is—under normal circumstances only sort of acceptable. It’s something I’d never miss.~  
_  
Quietly, she took control and went to find a chair. As she set it by the former-host’s side, she noticed a kind of pallor to the woman’s skin. Sam rested a finger on the woman’s arm, and found it chill. She grabbed a nearby blanket, and lay it gently over the woman, then sat down. Through all of it, the woman didn’t move beyond near-invisible twitches in both face and arms.  
_  
~Maybe there’s some nervous problems like we had,~ _Sam wondered.

Then, just as she settled fully into the chair, there was movement. The woman’s hand slipped from where it rested at her collarbone, and then jerked outward a little, as if reaching for something before realizing that there was nothing to reach for. For a moment her hand hovered, then lay down, hanging half off the bed, looking slightly desperate.

Sam knew things were delicate, but she thought she recognized the reach for safety or comfort. Softly, she put up her hand and rested it on the woman’s. Not clasping, not lying heavily, just barely touching. “You’re safe,” she murmured just under her breath.

The woman didn’t move or wake, but Sam thought her hand at least relaxed.

Sam closed her eyes after a moment, trying to empty her mind. It was starting to wind tight, her thoughts tangling, and she didn’t want that. Jolinar sat back, watching in a way as she saw Sam consciously work on what was in her own mind. Jolinar hadn’t done something like this, so Sam had no idea what it looked or felt like.

There was no way to tell how much time passed, when suddenly there was movement again. Sam felt the hand beneath hers jerk beyond just a twitch, and her eyes flew open. The woman’s eyes were still closed, but her face had tensed with something that almost never happened with sleep, and her eyes flitted rapidly beneath her lids.

“It’s all right,” Sam half-whispered.

Sam could see the veins pulsing frantically in the woman’s neck, but then her eyes slowly fluttered half open. Sam breathed in, seeing an empty grey that was nothing like the hard glint from before. Not empty though—not quite.

The woman’s face was contorted in something like a frown, her nostrils flaring with how fast paced her breathing was. Her eyes darted from Sam to the walls around, and then suddenly she pulled her hand back to her chest.

“Who?” she whispered, the word coming out cracked and neither curious nor worried but something harsher. Flatter.

Sam’s sympathy panged. “My name is Samantha,” she said quietly. “I’m here to help you.”

There was almost a full minute of silence. The woman didn’t move, her breathing still rapid, her body still tensed, her eyes still darting before finally resting on Sam’s.

“I am not Quetesh,” she finally said, voice barely breaking a whisper.

And Sam knew she wasn’t just telling Sam, she was telling herself. It hurt in a familiar way, and now this was no longer just “unfinished business”.

“You’re safe,” she said softly again. The woman didn’t relax, but she didn’t close her eyes either. And Sam saw the pain in them. But pain meant something to feel, and Sam knew that soon she’d be grateful for it. Just not now.

“You’re safe,” she said again.


	7. Unaccustomed

Sam had never been a mother. She had never been a big sister. And she hadn’t known very often even what being a leader felt like. Only now, all she saw before her was a broken life, and there seemed to be an urge within to gather it to her and make it all better.

Quetesh’s host did not speak again for many minutes, when she looked away from Sam and asked in that hoarse whisper: “Where is this?”

“You’re on the Tok’ra home world, in a medical facility,” Sam said. “You’re free here.”

The woman swallowed, and closed her eyes for a second. Sam wished her heartbeat would slow and that she would stop this apparent still panic, but a part of her understood. And Jolinar could only watch, transfixed but not wanting to get involved—it was a hurt she didn’t want to bring up.

“What is your name?” Sam finally asked, taking her first dangerous step.

The woman didn’t open her eyes, and her breathing hastened again. “I forgot,” she whispered, the catch in her voice almost shattering it. A teardrop gathered at the corner of one tightly shut eye.

“It’s okay,” Sam said, as soothingly as she could, and she put her hand gently on the woman’s arm. She felt almost fevered now, compared to the chill of last night. Sam wondered if her health might have something to do with the panic, but couldn’t know for sure, and didn’t think the woman was ready to see Larys.

“Vala,” whispered the woman then.

Sam knew that word wasn’t Goa’uld.

“Vala Mal Doran,” the woman whispered, and she choked on the last word. Her arm twisted beneath Sam’s hand, but only to reach up and clasp her hand, gripping so tight that it hurt.

“Vala,” Sam said back, and even as she felt like her hand might break, a part of her relaxed.

“You are Tok’ra?” Vala asked, not quite opening her eyes, her words still fragile.

“Yes,” Sam said simply.

Vala gave the tiniest of tight nods, and then her grip on Sam’s hand loosened. A few moments of silence later, and Sam saw Vala relax slowly, as if she was falling asleep again. Her breathing slowed, and she let her hand still holding Sam’s rest loosely on the infirmary bed.  
_  
~I think this is good,_~ Sam said, finally breathing out.

And then Vala did fall asleep, and finally let her hold on Sam’s hand relax. Jolinar felt like they should stay there, and Sam almost did, but a concern hit her and she quietly left Vala’s side.

First, she spoke to Larys. He nodded, said that all indications said that Vala was slightly unwell, but nothing dangerous. He’d leave the rest to Sam, as the Council wished. But he mentioned, for Sam’s sake as well as Jolinar’s, that the Tok’ra had not had much success with the rescue of hosts. Many turned inward in their panic, often afterwards becoming violent against their “Goa’uld captors”. Most had to be set free quickly to recover on their own, and even though some did so and came back to apologize for their quick judgment, it had never gone well in the beginning.

Then, Sam went to Selmak. Jolinar had never been glad that Selmak was on the Tok’ra High Council, but Sam found herself often appreciating it. Now, she had to ask what was going on with Dorieth. Only just last night, an operative had been sent with full authority to assess the situation. And this morning, the shortest of messages had been sent back—”Disaster averted.”

Sam and Jolinar might find a thousand meanings in those words, but the only important one was that they were off the hook. At least a little, and at least for now. Selmak seemed to see this interpretation, for he said no more.

Sam couldn’t help but think of the details, but not for long. She had another mission, on this base, and “her people” would have to wait for that. _~It’s getting personal again, isn’t it?~_ she asked suddenly, as she was once again sitting by Vala’s side as she slept.

Jolinar could only agree. And looking on Vala’s sleeping face, neither of them could see any other way. They had been doomed to be involved with Quetesh. At first it had been Sha’re, and her people. But along the way, even before their capture, Jolinar had found the repressed hatred from so many decades ago. Now, Quetesh herself was gone, but the traces of her lay in this woman they were charged with. And as much as Sam hoped to help Vala, she knew that a part of her hoped that facing and dealing with Vala would help heal Sam.

Vala wasn’t going to face them yet, though. When Sam returned, the woman was sitting up in the bed. She leaned against the crystal tunnel walls, knees close to her chest, head resting tipped to the side on her knees. In the loose hospital garments, she looked small, even though Sam knew she was at least Sam’s height.

Sam stood for a moment outside the room. _~Now what?~_ she asked herself, feeling momentarily helpless.

Jolinar had nothing at all.

So Sam walked in the room and sat down on the second bed again.

Then, she was almost surprised to see Vala look up with painful eyes. Sam saw her hand clench, and was that a glint of metal in it? “Where is Quetesh?” Vala asked, voice wavering but eyes steady on Sam.

“Dead,” Sam answered quietly.

Vala breathed out, trembling.

“Is that—” Sam started, wondering if it was the right time. Vala had looked back down at her knees, but Sam could tell that she was listening. “Is that all the worries you still have?”

“Am I to be starved?”

With all the tension, the slight demand, or possibly sarcasm, in this question made Sam swallow a laugh. It wasn’t funny—she could hear Vala’s insecurity under the calm she put in those words. But it was something different. “What do you want to eat?” she asked simply.

“I never got to choose,” Vala whispered without looking at Sam.

Sam felt a sharp jab of pain from Jolinar, and the painful laugh she’d swallowed tasted bitter. “I’ll see what we have,” she said quietly, then stood up to leave the room. She’d bring back as much of a buffet as she could.

ooooooo

Daniel sat in his lab, Shifu in his arms, rocking back and forth in his desk chair. His eyes might close at any moment, but then he’d stop rocking and Shifu would wake and scream. Maybe. There was always the possibility that this time he was sleeping for good, but Daniel would rather push his own limits than test his son’s for now.

But in the darkness on the base, footsteps broke the silence.

“Late night?”

Daniel managed not to bolt out of his chair, but that was more due to exhaustion than self-control. His eyes snapped fully open, and there was Jack, of all people.

“Good god, you’re here late,” Daniel whispered.

“Briefing with Hammond,” Jack said, grimacing. “Heard your little guy screaming on my way out, but never made it—that was a few hours ago.”

He didn’t explain; with Daniel, he didn’t need to. In his weariness, Daniel didn’t know if it was the right time to bring up Charlie or not. Maybe Jack wanted it, being that blunt with his hints? Or was that a blunt hint? Daniel was too tired—though if Jack wasn’t over Charlie, he wouldn’t be talking to Sara again.

“Why so long with Hammond?” Daniel asked, the safe question.

“Good question, Daniel,” said Jack, a little lightly for someone still at work at 2am. He walked in, sighing, and sat in Daniel’s other chair.

Daniel glanced down to Shifu, who still looked asleep, then focused back on Jack. He couldn’t see quite clearly this late, even squinting and blinking not clearing away all the bleariness.

“You remember what this place used to be like?” Jack asked pointedly, almost of a sudden.

“The first mission?” Daniel clarified. He breathed out slowly. “Barely. Why?”

Jack shrugs, but Daniel waited for the words to come. If they came. Jack had already said more than usual.

“Hammond’s getting a lot of pressure,” Jack finally admitted.

“About caution?” Daniel asked.

Jack shakes his head. “Everything. All the important—” he waves his hand for a second, before finding the word “—breakthroughs. They’re all about science, and we’re still on the Air Force payroll. As we should be, with the Goa’uld still out there.”

“But we need science to fight the Goa’uld,” Daniel protested with a frown.

“Maybe,” said Jack cautiously. “I don’t know about you, Daniel, but I don’t understand half the importance all the egg-heads put on things. And I do understand that, still, if a Goa’uld came to attack Earth, all we’ve really got is nukes.”

It took a few seconds longer than usual for Daniel to think about those words.

“Until yesterday.”

Daniel’s eyes were starting to droop again, involuntarily. He wasn’t rocking as hard, and Shifu was still asleep.

“He’s right,” muttered Jack. “What the hell happened here? Some kind of lab, testing on soldiers. Aliens doing god-knows-what to us. And the Goa’uld?”

“May not all be bad,” Daniel murmured.

“It’s late, Daniel,” Jack said after another second, and there was an edge back in his voice that Daniel hadn’t noticed leaving during the conversation. “I’m going home.”

“Jack,” said Daniel, lifting his head as Jack paused by the door. “I don’t really know why you got into this place, but I know why I did. And things aren’t the same, maybe; but this place is my home now.”

“That’s good for you,” said Jack, and his tone was flat, not sarcastic.

Jack left and Daniel’s head drooped forward on his chest, his arms relaxing against the arms of his chair. Then, a wriggle, and a half-cry, and his head came back up and he started to rock again. Shifu wouldn’t sleep.

Silence around him, Daniel thought he knew what Jack meant. This place wasn’t just a secret outpost where a hidden doorway was kept. This was the CDC, advanced R&amp;D, a test lab, a house, and some weird military black ops base. With aliens. Daniel didn’t want to think about how that looked to the people at the Pentagon...it was weird enough from his end.

It had been Shifu’s last protest, and the next thing Daniel knew, Sha’re was in his office and Shifu was crying for food because it was 4am now. And finally, finally, Daniel slept.

ooooooo

Vala’s fingers trembled as she reached for the food on the tray Sam brought. She didn’t look up at Sam the entire time, just slowly chewed and swallowed, almost still curled up. But when she finally looked to Sam, there was more suspicion than fear in her tension.

“Are you my jailer or my nursemaid?” she asked after the food was nearly all gone, and Sam wondered at her appetite.

“Not jailer,” Sam said, with what she hoped was warmth. “But Vala—I don’t know what else I’m doing here.”

“So maybe you aren’t a Goa’uld after all,” Vala said, almost under her breath.

Sam grimaced slightly. “No. That, I’m not.”

“Then why do you, all of you, have them inside?” Vala asked, voice suddenly rising in both pitch and volume.  
_  
~She’s not ready for this,~_ Sam thought, looking at the emotions in Vala’s eyes. “You knew who the Tok’ra were,” she said. “If you know that, you know what we are.”

“And why am I here?” Vala asked, looking piercingly at Sam. “What is your plan?”

“What is yours?” Sam asked back.

The panicked bristles that had just started to show on Vala disappeared, and it was if she had shrunk. “Run. Hide. Alone.” The cracks were audible in her voice again.

“She can’t come back,” Sam said quietly.

“I cannot remember who I am, but I remember that there are more of them,” Vala said rigidly.

Jolinar had almost disappeared in the back of Sam’s mind, but then she spoke. _*Samantha, I cannot, cannot, face this.*_

~I can’t not,~ Sam answered, doubly concerned at once.  
_  
*Just let me rest, please. I will disappear.*_

Sam’s brow creased, and she felt pain in her mind, maybe even her heart. _~What am I going to do then?~_

*Help her. I can’t.*

Sam barely held back a protest that she could hardly do anything either.

“What is your name?”

Sam lost track of Jolinar, but Vala was there and was asking a question. “Samantha,” she answered.

“And you don’t know who I am?” Vala asked next. She was sitting up, arms wrapped around her knees, staring with more security from behind the wall they made.

“No,” Sam admitted, and decided that Jolinar would wait.

“Then there is nothing for me here,” Vala said, just above a whisper.

“What do you want?” Sam asked, looking her straight in the eye.

“I don’t know,” Vala said. “Not this.” Her eyes lost their steady gaze for a moment, flitting around the room in a second before coming back to meet Sam’s.

Sam looked at her closely, saw the lines just barely at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She couldn’t have been younger than Sam by more than a few years, if Sam could read her physical age correctly. But Sam didn’t see that in her eyes; she didn’t even see the younger Sha’re, full of vitality and emotion. Sam could swear she saw someone smaller, someone whose walls had been broken down so far that she didn’t have much left to wall up.

She didn’t know how many memories Vala had, either of her life before or of what Quetesh had to have left in her mind. When had she been taken? Who had she left behind? Questions too sensitive for now, but Sam needed to guess. After decades, as Larys said, Vala would have to know that no one was coming for her. The Tok’ra had saved her, but they had saved the idea of her, and knew no more who she was than the Goa’uld who thought of her as no more than a body.

Vala had no one to hope for. Perhaps her family had been killed; perhaps they had just abandoned her as lost. She didn’t remember them, maybe; and maybe that was because they didn’t exist. Vala wasn’t Sha’re, and she didn’t know how to embrace this gift of freedom.

So, what, she would run? Fear it? It was a choice that Sam couldn’t let her make. Sam didn’t know what to make of Vala, but when she looked up, she didn’t see a woman who would break down and disappear into nothingness. Vala had reached for Sam’s hand, asked her questions, with a fear that overwhelmed her senses but was colored by an underlying will. Will to live, Sam thought, if not to fight.

“I don’t know what you think,” Sam said, resisting the urge to start of with ‘look’, “but I do know one thing from experience.” Her gaze met Vala’s, harder than before. “Don’t jump on impulses just because you don’t know what to do.” She felt grateful that she’d learned this lesson so long ago that the memories of Jonas lay lightly buried. And with Jolinar somewhere back there, no one was asking questions yet.

“My escape is blocked then,” said Vala slowly, eyes darting from Sam’s for a moment only to come back.

“Try looking for it on this planet first,” Sam said softly. Then, because Vala wasn’t shrinking away, she put out her hand. “Would you like to find some place more private?”

Sam saw Vala’s hands twist around themselves, unsteady for a moment. She looked down at Sam’s outstretched hand, and then, jerkily, she let one knee drop from where it guarded her chest and hang off the edge of the bed. A few seconds later, she stretched forth a quivering hand, and Sam took the last step forward to clasp it gently.

Sam was holding her breath as Vala slid from the bed, only to have her knee buckle as her foot touched the floor. Vala gave out a low cry as she slipped a little, but Sam stepped to her, an arm round her waist as she fell. Vala froze, gasping sharply, but Sam didn’t move, just held her upright.

Then, a choking sob coming forth, Vala collapsed to her knees, Sam gently coming with her. “It’s okay,” Sam murmured, as the woman seemed to lose control over the tension, almost falling against Sam. She put a hand to Vala’s back and held her, as Vala shook with another sob.

Her hand gently stroking Vala’s back, Sam felt her face twist with worry, but inside all she felt was that this meant something. Not what she had expected, but all to the same purpose. _Don’t run away_, she said to Vala in her head.

This wasn’t breaking apart; this was the first step to fitting the pieces back together. And Sam figured that she had time for that.

Vala ran out of sobs too quickly, but her silent dry shaking was just as unstable._ ~Jolinar?~ _Sam whispered in her head._ ~I don’t know why exactly this hurts you, though I can guess. But it’s all right. I think we’re almost past fear.~_

She didn’t feel an articulate answer, but it seemed for the rest of the day like maybe Jolinar was simply silent, not hiding.

Vala had decided to take her chances with Sam, though as little as possible. Once she seemed calm, worn rather than exhausted from being on edge, Sam started asking questions. Do you hurt anywhere? Do you feel sick? Can you walk? At this point, discussing other people or fresh clothing seemed like potential triggers for fear, so Sam didn’t. And she hoped Larys trusted Vala in her charge, as Sam took her from the infirmary and to a small lab that had been empty every time Sam and Jolinar passed it.

“If you want to sit here for a moment,” Sam said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Vala nodded, and leaned back in the chair that Sam had brought her to.

Sam had good timing. No sooner had she returned up to the main level of the Tok’ra complex when she saw the rings come down from the surface, and there was Shan’ak, a small device in his hand. “From Dorieth,” he said, on seeing her.

“Already?” she asked, but followed him as he delivered it to the nearest Councilmember.

Per’sus nodded after looking at it. “You understand that this is no longer truly your mission,” he said, voice low as he looked to her.

She nodded once.

“But I understand your continued interest,” he said, glancing up once he looked back down at the device. “The Jaffa on Dorieth have been imprisoned by its human inhabitants.”

Sam had partly forgotten things, and stood startled. “Really?”

“But not for execution,” said Per’sus, a slight eyebrow raise changing the neutrality of his face. “It seems that there is some kind of negotiation for their cooperation going on.”

Sam stood, pondering, but she had little to think on without Jolinar immediately there. By now, she was certain that her symbiote was sleeping.

Per’sus exhaled and lowered the hand which held the device. “Indeed, our operative there is returning; he had another mission assigned before this, and Dorieth does not need urgent attention. Its people have taken control, and are guarding themselves against any further attack. While we may contact them in the future, our focus must return to the important matter.”

“Have you heard from Lantash?” Sam asked.

“Not since you last knew of it,” Per’sus said.

And that was the end of the conversation. Sam returned to Vala, who was tracing the tunnel walls with nothing else to do. Sam noticed the limpness of her hair and asked, “Do you want to clean up?”

Vala looked at her like it was an alien suggestion, and after who knows how long of being entirely unable to affect her own body, Sam realized that for her it was. But Sam left her alone after leading her to the Tok’ra baths, and afterward Vala asked her, “Do you have nothing to do?”

Feeling that maybe Vala should be thinking quietly, Sam nodded, and found one of the Tok’ra computer devices to look at the latest information in more detail. The hours passed, and Sam realized with awkwardness that it was no wonder other hosts bolted, with nothing to occupy them. But by the time evening had arrived, Vala was curled in a chair and sound asleep. Hair curling more naturally soft and shapeless around her face, she wore simple clothes that she had picked out, surprising Sam as she had done so with how ready she was.

Sam watched Vala sleep a few minutes, wondering if she really wanted even only one more day of this. But then Jolinar was back in her head, and everything else faded._ ~Where have you been?~ _she asked, and it came out strong.  
_  
*Right here,*_ Jolinar answered simply.

Sam had had plenty of time to think about what she’d say. _~Is it that she looks like Quetesh?~_

*No,* Jolinar said shortly._ *She sounds like Elista.*_

Sam felt Jolinar’s guilt burn, and then nothing. _~But things changed. It wasn’t always like this.~_

*When you have violated someone’s identity, stolen it from them, and then you have realized it—do you think it matters?*

~No,~ Sam said.   
_  
*But,* _Jolinar said, and some of the left her mind. _*I was cowardly. I do not know when we will have another mission, but that is not the only reason that I cannot hide while you do this.*_

~Thank you,~ Sam said warmly.

When she looked back to Vala, this time Jolinar was there with her. _*If you have gotten her this far, I believe she will need support,* _Jolinar offered.

Sam smiled to herself. This felt better.

The next days were an exercise in awkwardness and hesitation. Vala didn’t speak except in rare moments, just followed wherever Sam went. Jolinar seemed to understand a little, but Sam couldn’t comprehend it. She thought about speaking to Cordesh’s former host Lensin, but on speaking to Larys found that Lensin had gone offworld permanently.

So instead, Sam stuck to things that didn’t require talking or introspection. Reyfa made no comment as Vala sat quietly in the corner and watched them talk. Sam asked about the modifications that she and Anise had worked on, since there was no way she was taking Vala near Anise, and then was thoroughly distracted by hearing about the armbands that were currently puzzling Anise. A demonstration of Reyfa’s tunnel crystal project finished off the first visit, and Sam wondered if Vala had understood even half the words. It was gratifying when Jolinar said that she hardly knew that much, not because Sam liked to feel smarter, but just because Jolinar was at enough ease to make that comment.

Next Sam found the library that had captivated Sha’re during her time. Selmak and Jacob were there too, and they also did not comment on Vala’s presence. Sam wondered for a moment if being ignored was the best policy for her, but things were too fragile to try anything else. She hadn’t gotten a chance to truly read in forever, and cautiously glanced over to Vala after realizing they’d been there an hour. Vala looked like she could read, and could manage the electronic screens of data—but all Sam saw was a frown of concentration, and a vague scanning of pages.

More and more, Sam realized just how little leisure time the Tok’ra were used to. Especially without being able to have conversations, things started to drag. Which started to frustrate Sam, as she over-thought every move here, and kept finding her mind drawn back to Dorieth to wonder about its future and where they’d messed up in the beginning.

Two days into it, though, as Sam guided Vala back to the infirmary, the woman took a deep breath and turned to her. “I think,” she said slowly, almost biting her lip, “that I do not like the food here. I think I remember better.”

Sam laughed softly. “That’s a very good memory, then.”

Vala’s eyes had a moment of warmth before she went to her infirmary bed and Sam and Jolinar went to theirs. But their last thoughts were of something beyond this base. Sam had thought that dealing with Vala would help, but things weren’t moving fast enough, and somewhere out there was movement in plenty. Jolinar was no less sure what exactly would fill the need, but they both sighed and wondered. Were they really feeling alive?


	8. Paradigm Shift

Two days later, and Jolinar itched for something else to do. Even Sam was starting to feel trapped. Vala had progressed well, recalling a few more things that seemed to bring a hint of stability to her. It had also helped that Sam and Jolinar figured out that, rather than having a childish short attention span, Vala was very adept at turning away or changing the subject to guard her still-unhealed self. When she talked. More often it was guarding herself from looks. Thankfully few of the Tok’ra paid much heed to anything but  their work.

Vala had stuck to Sam and Jolinar almost like a burr, though, even after Sam finally got her speaking to her father. Selmak had wisely stayed out of the way, for the sake of Vala’s fragile sense of safety, but Jacob had been interested without poking and prodding at her. Vala had shown an intense kind of interest in this, as with everything Sam did around her. Sam couldn’t be as interested.

She felt like this was a road she wasn’t needed on. She felt like maybe Vala could do it without her. And she felt like she needed Jolinar closer to her than this, and Jolinar just couldn’t connect with Vala; it wasn’t her fault, or Vala’s, or Sam’s. But Jolinar agreed with Sam that something more needed to happen.

And then they heard the news, and were swiftly up to the main Tok’ra level, leaving Vala reluctantly half-playing checkers with Jacob. Sam could have wanted any news, but this was better than any.

Lantash was coming down from the Council chamber when they approached, briefing already given. His face lit on seeing them and his step quickened—unsurprising considering that their last meeting was almost three weeks before when they were only five steps away from death. Jolinar smiled and pulled him quickly into an embrace upon reaching him, feeling a warmth that she’d forgotten she could always rely on.

“Something wrong?” he asked, surprised at the impulse.

“I missed your presence,” Jolinar explained simply.

He nodded, then said softly, “You look well,” looking down at her face with a smile.

Jolinar leaned up for a kiss, not long, but it was an intimate touch and the healing felt very real. Sam couldn’t help but think how little human contact they had received recently—mostly giving it, since Jacob hugged his daughter less now than before.

The brightness in Lantash’s look faded a moment as he brought up a finger to trace the scar on her face.

Jolinar put up her hand over his. “Never mind this; one of but a few reminders.”

“I should be thankful it is all Quetesh will leave behind now,” he said, still holding her gently close to him, hand resting at the small of her back.

“Have you eaten?” Jolinar asked.

When he shook his head, she turned in his embrace towards the corridor. He rested his arm around her shoulders as they started to walk. Sam was only a little surprised to feel how quickly she and Jolinar were at a kind of peace, despite their need for something to distract their mind more fully.

“What news did you bring back?” Jolinar asked eagerly.

Lantash sighed, but not heavily. “Things are moving at a great pace. Which seems to be your gift, my love, though it is not a disaster.”

Jolinar merely nodded, and for all that Sam had been grateful for the speed, she could see how a habit of that would be killing.

“Quetesh simply disappeared, from our position,” he continued explaining. “I, Martouf, and the other Goa’uld under Quetesh’s rule. Her visit to Dorieth was not on impulse, but the evidence leading towards it as a possibility were couched in less obvious terms. In hindsight, we could see her intent, though. And with no word, and with the Dorieth gate refusing to open—there was the immediate thought that she would not return.”  
_  
~Is that normal?~_ Sam asked.  
_  
*The Goa’uld live for any opportunity to seize control, if it is at all within their power. Though, this is a little hasty.*  
_  
“What do they plan?” Jolinar asked out loud.

“Nothing original,” Lantash said. “Quetesh’s plan involved an attack on Ba’al’s fleet, as her main rival. Now, her lieutenants are going after a similar strike. There is very much the air that they are postponing the final struggle for power until that battle is over, and there is a secure fleet to war over.”

Jolinar and Sam said nothing, thinking too much over all the options. The entire goal of the Tok’ra was about not taking out single Goa’uld because of the power-vacuum result, but this was not the same. It had only been a few days, and with no defined leader no immediate danger yet.

“Will you look for a way to take power and keep everything in balance?” Jolinar asked, even as her brow was still furrowed with thought.

Lantash snorted, and then Martouf took control. “Nothing is decided yet,” he said with a wry smile, looking to her. “But I believe the Council wishes, having gone this far, that Quetesh’s empire be fully disabled as said the original plan.”

Jolinar nodded, and as Sam thought about it, she realized that they couldn’t have been happy with any other decision. Some Abydonians were still in the fleet, on the flagship at least. “So then,” Jolinar asked, “what for now?”

“We heard of all that is on Dorieth,” Martouf said. “Including the situation with the Jaffa. Your tactics worked to some extent, and without Quetesh, the Jaffa on that world are allying with the freed slaves.”

Jolinar lifted her eyebrow, and Sam’s heart leapt a little. Per’sus hadn’t explained that fully. “Really?” Jolinar voiced Sam’s reaction.

Martouf nodded briskly. “It is a surprise to the Council. The slaves on Dorieth seem to have imprisoned the Jaffa at first, to prevent a war. But after a day to cool their heels, many of the Jaffa were disposed to go along with their new freedom. Those who were most violently against it were separated from their peers, and at last report all but a few were working together with the freed slaves to set up defenses and rebuild the planet.”  
_  
~Wow,~ _said Sam. She supposed there was a lot more bitterness than that, but it wasn’t as if the Jaffa’d had a choice. It was the best news they’d heard in a long, long time. It meant that change could happen, and stick.

“The Council hesitantly proposes that perhaps the Jaffa can be acquired to take down the rest of Quetesh’s empire,” Martouf said.

Jolinar frowned. “What motivation? They have driven Quetesh away, what more can they wish?”

“It was a very hesitant proposal,” Martouf said simply.  
_  
~But it’s the right way. It has to be.~_

Jolinar agreed, saying aloud. “Then we are still needed for this mission, if only to make the case to the Council. There are many important options.” She had been glancing down, as Sam’s thoughts started racing towards the Free Jaffa, and Jolinar had almost thought of the word alliance, but looking back up, Martouf was giving them a look. “What is it?” she asked.

“I should not be so pleased to see you wishing to get back in the action,” said Martouf, smiling. “But I, Lantash as well, think it does you well. Some, at least.”

Jolinar felt it too, the fresh rush of blood, the activity of the brain. “It is difficult for us to heal passive and alone,” she admitted.

“I am surprised we did not see it sooner,” Martouf said lightly, and his arm around her shoulders squeezed slightly.

After they ate, and after Sam and Jolinar returned to Vala, they still felt the affects of the fresh news. And Sam paused to wonder if maybe, maybe, they should be urging Vala towards being ready for a new task, not towards full healing first. Maybe she as well needed something to do after a certain plateau.

ooooooo

The sirens blared in the SGC at 1 in the morning, and Daniel jerked awake before the first peal had reached its peak. Shifu burst into tears, and Sha’re scooted from Daniel to pick him up immediately. A short shared look of worried eyes, and Daniel darted from his bed to grab the phone.

“Possibly enemy sighting above Earth; please report to emergency stations,” said the repeated message on the line.

Daniel couldn’t put the phone back for a couple seconds, just stood and listened to it repeat a couple more times. Enemy sighting, was that attack or invasion or both, and what defenses would they have?

“An enemy ship,” he explained quickly to Sha’re as he grabbed a BDU jacket.

“I will be prepared to depart with Shifu,” Sha’re said quickly, their son wailing in her arms at the siren still blaring.

“I—I need more information,” Daniel said, pausing, thinking maybe he shouldn’t be leaving her.

“Then go, go,” she urged, making a pushing motion with her free hand. Then, “Wait,” she said, and moved to his nightstand. Daniel had forgotten his glasses.

Thanking her under his breath as he put them on, Daniel then ran up to the control room. He and Teal’c were the only members of SG-1 there, but surprisingly he saw a bleary Bill Lee and also Clare Tobias, looking over Walter’s shoulders.

“What is it?” Daniel asked quickly, slightly breathless.

“Explosion!” said one of the gate techs, eyes wide as it was the only word on his mind.

“A big Goa’uld ship blew up halfway between Mars and Earth,” Clare said more smoothly, still looking at the screen. “Those space watch systems that McKay set up right after he joined your team? Well, this is now the second thing they’ve picked up. The first one, when your wife came, was a bit of a coincidence. But since then, everything’s been refined, and we caught this much farther out.”

“Wait,” Daniel said, confused. “I’m only half-awake, I know, but was it just an explosion? What does that mean?”

“We’re trying to get a closer look, but the debris is messing with things,” said Lee, arms crossed.

“Okay, this camera might have something,” said Walter. “I can’t expand it much, but look at this.”

Daniel leaned over the scientists’ shoulders as they looked close, and saw Teal’c looking from the other side. He looked...well, stoic. Daniel wouldn’t have expected anything else before they got a good lead.

“Oh sh—” Lee said, jumping a little.

Daniel squinted, eyes a little tired at first. Then he saw it—beyond the debris of a ship exploding in space, the silhouette of a Goa’uld mothership. Just like Apophis’, less than a year ago.

“I should call the General, right?” Walter asked, voice wavering a little.

“Yes, yes!” said Lee.

Daniel, Teal’c, and Clare weren’t panicked yet.

“No, wait,” Clare said, even as Walter was out of his chair and towards the phone.

Then, right before their eyes, the mothership vanished in a burst of light, jumping into hyperspace.

“Whoa,” said Lee.

“What happened to the other ship?” Clare asked, frowning.

“The first thing we caught on camera was the explosion,” Walter said, still standing by the phone. “The other ship would have had to be behind it.”

Daniel frowned too, a thought popping into his head.

Teal’c said it first. “It is most likely that the second ship fired upon the first, and then left upon the conclusion of its purpose in this system.”

There was a pause, all of them looking to the now empty screen, then back at each other.

“Why?” asked Clare, putting up her hand.

“The Goa’uld have rivalries,” Daniel said, trying to think it through even though he just wanted to yawn. “Maybe one had an interest in Earth, but the other only wanted that ship destroyed.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Lee, hopeful, one arm crossed over his chest and supporting the other, which he rested his chin on, leaning back thoughtfully.

“Then we were really damn lucky,” Clare said, breathing out, though not entirely convinced.

Daniel saw that Walter was still calling Hammond, though no longer looking about ready to panic.

“Still nothing,” Clare said, looking back at the screen.

“I do not doubt that all is as it appears,” said Teal’c calmly. “This is not a ruse such as the Goa’uld are like to use.”

Daniel really did yawn then, jaw stretching to its limits. “I need to tell Sha’re that, before she has all our things packed,” he said.

“Well, I probably won’t be able to get to sleep tonight anyway, so I’ll just stay here and keep watch,” said Clare.

“And I will return to my kel’no’reem unless there is true danger,” said Teal’c with a nod.

Daniel walked back towards his and Sha’re’s room as the siren stopped, leaving things more quiet. He was almost certain, but one thing had him wondering. Who could it have been? Who would have been coming to Earth, and who would have attacked them? It often worried him at how little they knew of Goa’uld politics. Then again, of all the Goa’uld that Daniel knew for certain were aware of Earth, he wouldn’t mind if any of them had just been destroyed.

Unfortunately, they’d probably never know for sure.

“What is it?” asked Sha’re.

Daniel paused, seeing her fully dressed, Shifu cradled in her wrap, and a duffle bag in her hand. “Nothing urgent,” he said, resisting another yawn.

She sighed. “Oh, Dan’yel, I almost thought that we were back on Abydos with such news.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, putting his arm around her and kissing her hair. “I still trust that things won’t get that bad here; we’re safer.”

“Maybe one day I will believe it,” Sha’re said, stripping her hastily put-on clothes.

Daniel took Shifu from her arms and nodded. It would be nice if they had less reminders that things could go wrong, even if they didn’t.

ooooooo

“The major issue facing us is the quantity of ships,” Martouf explained, sitting with Jacob and Sam in Selmak’s quarters, the day after they had returned to base.

“Right,” Sam said, nodding. “As soon as you take out one, they’ll figure it out, but you can’t take out more than one at once without the resources.”

Martouf sighed, acknowledging it. Jacob said something then, but Sam and Jolinar were in their own head, and the answer seemed obvious. Why not get the Jaffa? Why not the Doriens, for that matter? Sabotage was just as good as infiltration, sometimes.

Sam glanced over to see how Vala was doing. She was quiet, but watching everything with sharp, intense looks. As always now, she seemed to be working hard to build a wall of neutrality, to keep what was truly going on inside her invisible. But she was no longer hesitant and fearful, and Sam couldn’t help but feel more concerned about the aftermath with Quetesh.  
_  
~I feel ready to speak to the Council,~_ Sam said to herself._ ~Martouf and Lantash will be leaving in a couple days; that will be important.~_

Jolinar agreed, but they didn’t feel the need to explain this to Martouf or Jacob, not yet.

It was simplest to find Garshaw, and so they did that the next day in the early morning. Jolinar thought she saw a little tautening of Garshaw’s jawline as she approached, but she was open enough in her words and tone. “Yes, Jolinar?”

“It is not a request for a mission,” Jolinar opened with, getting that point out of the way. But she paused, exhaling a little, feeling Sam want her to expand, and feeling the slight need for herself as well. “It would not be...wise...and I think you know that.”

Garshaw slightly raised an eyebrow, but nothing distinct.

“But for a mission already assigned, there are aspects we fear will be overlooked,” Jolinar continued. “Quetesh’s fleet—it is supposed to be made ineffective, yes?”

Garshaw nodded, adjusting her stance and appearing slightly more interested.

“Samantha and I believe that there is a way to accomplish that simply,” Jolinar said. “But  it requires trust, which means a slight risk. The Jaffa, and the people of Dorieth, may be of great help.”

“In what capacity?” Garshaw asked, her arms lightly crossing over her chest.

“The same as our operatives,” Jolinar explained, looking her straight in the eye. “They wish for freedom, and some have won it already. What reason is there not to use such will and such numbers again? Speak with them, and let them know what they can do, and I have no doubt that they will flock to the challenge.”

“You are suggesting an alliance, Jolinar,” said Garshaw pointedly. “With people who have had no time to show any tendencies that may be judged.”

Jolinar shook her head sharply. “What tendencies need to be observe if they volunteer? Their capability cannot be denied.”

“Their motivation?” asked Garshaw.

“That is simple,” Jolinar said. She and Sam had caught onto this point only this morning, but now it seemed obvious. “Dorieth is now a settlement of free Jaffa and slaves, because they won it for themselves. Their further help may win them a piece of Quetesh’s fleet to defend themselves, if they work well so that a plan succeeds.”

Garshaw’s eyebrow fully raised then. “What plan could possibly let the fleet survive?”

“A coup, Garshaw, not a destruction,” Jolinar said. “Think of what happened on Dorieth. Instead of provoking a riot that would destroy Quetesh, we brought the Abydonians to a better understanding of the stakes, and their intelligence led them to a near-bloodless struggle. It is what we wish, as the Tok’ra, is it not? Less collateral damage?”

“But this cannot be achieved yet,” Garshaw objected, even as her face was more serious than incredulous. “This random happenstance on Dorieth cannot be repeated; slaves do not become effective armies all in an instant.”

Sam came forward. “That is the point, Garshaw. The Abydonians had been free for over two years when Quetesh captured them. They remembered that freedom. They passed it on. They can still do so, and I believe they would want nothing more. Remember that some of them are still captive aboard the fleet.”

Garshaw frowned.

Jolinar would have pushed forward, but Sam decided that there was enough to think upon in that.

“This is not your mission anymore,” Garshaw said, but not harshly. “Remember that.”

Sam nodded, as Garshaw turned without another word.

They couldn’t help continuing to think about things as they carried out another day. Sam sat with Vala as Larys released her from medical care, then found her a room of her own on base. His look to Sam over Vala’s shoulder said that it was still in her hands and she needn’t worry about precedent.

Vala sat on the simple Tok’ra bed. “Why are there no doors in this place?” she asked. The more days passed, the more Sam noticed that her questions were more direct. Not curious, though.

“There is no point in privacy,” Sam said. “It’s—something you can’t really explain so well. Everything is shared, willingly.”

Vala did not look convinced, but Sam couldn’t see why. Sometimes, when their minds could no longer focus on the one mission, Jolinar wondered what went on behind those eyes of Vala’s. They had been so raw with fear and damage in the first days, but what was in them now was not healing, only a kind of mask. Sam thought that a mask was a sign of some strength, even if it was painful if it was necessary.

“I am surprised that it is not more interesting here, then,” Vala answered in a low tone.

 Sam smiled, but she wasn’t sure it had been meant as humor.

The room didn’t change much of Vala’s behavior, though. She didn’t seem shy, necessarily, but she was always near Sam or Jacob now. Sam hadn’t heard Selmak in a long time, as he still held back for Vala’s sake.

And then, though, there were other concerns. Martouf and Lantash were asked to wait a day longer on base, as the Council had contacted Dorieth. Jolinar felt slightly miffed to be out of the loop, even as she and Sam understood that there was no obligation to them at all, despite it being their idea.

Garshaw had, in fact, gone herself to speak to the leader of the Doriens. It was actually a combined leadership between Kasuf and Creot and Nirishi, as well as Kronon the Jaffa. They had been so eager on the first word of a possible full rescue and defeat, that Garshaw had returned almost forced to seriously consider the viability. The Council were not convinced that it was wise, though, however tempting.

“We need much more,” Garshaw explained.

As Selmak explained after the meeting, they expressed more caution than they felt, because they thought that they should. “Change, Jolinar. It comes slowly. This is major, and even though there is precedent in this mission, they would be more comfortable in the usual pattern.”

“But here I am, and I cannot hold to that,” Jolinar said with a slight sigh.

“I do not object to that,” said Selmak. “In cases. This is one.”

Sam was sure, though, that she could give the Council more. And to that end, she was asked to provide more than just what was on Dorieth. What was the long-term of this plan?_ ~We need to go back to Chulak and Bra’tac,~ _Sam said.

But Sam and Jolinar were not the only ones with a surprise when they went through the gate again, back to peaceful Chulak.

“The false god Apophis is dead, by Sokar’s might,” said one of the Jaffa at the gate, leading them to Bra’tac.

Sam was shocked, though Jolinar less so. _*Such things happen, even without the Tok’ra’s influence.*_

~And likely the Council knew, but we had no reason to,~ Sam said.

Then, they were before Bra’tac.

“Samantha,” he said in opening, not quite friendly but with only minimal caution.

“Bra’tac, I am here with thanks,” Sam said, smiling a little. “Your advice was good, and I have similar news to report. A whole planet of Jaffa is now living free, alongside the slaves they once ruled.”

Bra’tac stood stunned for a moment. “What do you speak of?”

“Of Dorieth,” Sam said. “Our last visit, our mission, do you not remember?”

“I had no ideas that it might succeed,” said Bra’tac, almost under his breath.

Sam did smile then. It was hard not to, when there was such anticipation and good luck just within their grasp. “I always knew that you had a chance, Bra’tac. You and the Jaffa. This has been a long time in coming to you.”

“Then I thank you, Samantha,” said Bra’tac, finally looking as if he had come to grips with the fact. He came forward to clasp arms with Sam, as the Jaffa around them started murmuring in excitement. “You led this, and we will be grateful once we hear from our free brothers.”

“And that is only part of it,” Sam said, continuing. “There is a chance for more that you can do, more Jaffa that you can free.”

There was a pause, and all of their eyes were on her. “How can this not be merely an impulse?” Bra’tac asked, politely blunt.

“The world that was freed belonged to Quetesh,” Sam said. “The Tok’ra have slain Quetesh, and now her empire is unsteady. The Tok’ra cannot take advantage of this alone. They are willing to think of joining with you to not only defeat her once and for all, but also to take advantage of the ships that would be left without captains. Think, Bra’tac, of all the ships that could defend the Free Jaffa. With such safety, think how your movement would grow.”

Bra’tac eyed her slowly for a few seconds. “You have given this much thought, and these words much practice, I believe.”

Sam smiled again. “Yeah, a little. But Bra’tac, how can we help it, when it is such an opportunity looking at us in the face?”

“I must hear more details of this opportunity,” said Bra’tac finally, and gestured that Sam should come into the building.  
_  
*All this planning of ours may have been worth it,*_ Jolinar said satisfactorily. And as they looked around at all the Jaffa here, free-thinking and free-acting, they only saw evidence that they had always been right. When all was hanging in loose balance, and with time speeding away from them, they had to act fast. But the exhilaration was just the climax of something Sam had been thinking about for months now, and there was more planning to do after that.

This time, there would be no rash one-person mission. This time there would be a goal planned out to the last small detail, and all resources would be used. Sam was sure she could convince both Jaffa and Tok’ra to make this work, and it was just the focus that she and Jolinar had been looking for.


	9. Concession

Sam and Jolinar came back through the gate to the Tok’ra homeworld, Jolinar gently mocking Sam’s exhilaration. _*Perhaps I don’t put as much support behind this Bra’tac as you do.*_

_~I have a good feeling, all right?~_

Jolinar had a feeling it was momentary euphoria, but Sam didn’t see that as needing denial. It felt good.

Reporting to the Council, she explained it briefly. Bra’tac and the other free Jaffa were not interesting in helping the Tok’ra. However, they would help themselves, and if the Tok’ra were doing likewise, they would work together. That would have to be carefully detailed.

Martouf and Lantash had to leave, but they sent message before they were gone half a day, and let the Council know—they had less than two weeks.

“Then negotiations, no matter the outcome, must begin,” said Garshaw.

Sam didn’t point out that they were essentially being given a mission when they returned to Chulak, asking Bra’tac if he would consider Dorieth a neutral location. He was both ready and willing, and so the entire Council currently on base made ready that very night.

“You’ll help the Jaffa, won’t you?” Sam asked her father as he prepared to leave. “They deserve rights and trust, I know.”

“Don’t worry on that,” Jacob said, kissing her forehead. “Selmak is much intrigued by how you are enamored with them; we will certainly offer much to achieve this aid.”

Sam smiled her thanks, and watched the Council disappear.  
_  
~It’s like our baby, isn’t it,~_ she said.  
_  
*Hmm,* _Jolinar commented, a little uncomfortable. _*You do realize, that for that analogy to work, we are the father and your father the mother going off into labor.*_

Sam’s face twisted, and she tried to wipe the picture from her head.

Jolinar wondered what Dorieth looked like now, and what both visiting Jaffa and Tok’ra would think. But all they could do was wait. And pace. And frown, as Sam worried that emotions would elevate before either side realized it.

Then she paused, remembering that she was in a room with Vala, who was watching her behavior closely. “It’s okay,” she said aloud with half a smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Of course,” said Vala, turning her gaze slightly. But her tone was obvious; she didn’t believe it.

“We’re just worried, that’s all,” Sam said.

Vala nodded, but didn’t look to her. She held a piece of her own hair, curling it around her finger.  
_  
*What does she mean by that?_* Jolinar asked, slight frustration in her voice as she was distracted.

Sam didn’t know. And she didn’t know if Vala was trying to slip away from her, or if it was vice versa. Sighing, she sat and tried to think of what strategy might be decided on Dorieth.  
_  
*And is it not odd that the planet we happened upon during an unauthorized mission should prove so distinct?*_

_~Aren’t all landmarks like that? What was Abydos, before?~_

_*True. We shape the legendary out of the ordinary.*_

Vala disappeared when night came, and Sam did not notice. Jolinar had had the thought, _*What is the most that could be gained?*_, and Sam’s mind had been fully interested.

The Tok’ra did not need war spoils, and their strategies rarely allowed for them. Ships, on the rare occasions when they were needed, could be acquired through other means than conquest. Everything else, they could make.  
_  
~How big is Quetesh’s fleet?~_ Sam wondered, and as the hour was late, she stared up the at the tunnel ceiling and bit back a yawn.  
_  
*Fifteen ships, at most?_* Jolinar guessed. _*Motherships, at the least.*_

_~What would the Tok’ra do with all of that?~_ Sam wondered idly.  
_  
*Nothing,*_ Jolinar said shortly. _*There isn’t anything to do with it.*  
_  
The Council did not return that night. Sam and Jolinar stayed awake for hours, but eventually there was nothing more to think about and they drifted off to sleep.

Next morning, however, was not so dull. They didn’t all come back at once. First came Thoran, grave faced but not worried. He came to bear the news, more Tok’ra would be needed at the planet.

“Trouble?” asked Jolinar, approaching him.

“No, alliance,” Thoran replied.

Her heart started racing.

“There is some dispute still, but for this venture we are preparing a formal agreement.” He sighed.

Sam watched as he took a few more Tok’ra up the rings, knowing they would be through the gate in a matter of minutes. Despite being the influencing hand in all of this, it felt strange to be standing outside of it. _~How can Martouf and Lantash appreciate this?~_

_*They must have more to their life than waiting,_* Jolinar said, but could remember little of what they had ever said that would take up all that time.

It seemed a much shorter time later, though, that the entire Council returned. Selmak looked weary, but only barely, and did not sigh when Jolinar approached with eager eyes.

“You have done much today, Jolinar,” he began.

“Then it is done?” Jolinar asked.

“Much, yes,” said Selmak, eyebrows raised as he exhaled. “But first, Jacob demands a softer seat than those provided on Dorieth. A gracious offering, but the thought behind did not allay the reality completely.”

Jolinar nodded, and they made a swift way to the mess hall, taking seats at the table Jolinar always sat at. She brought over two steaming cups of hareshna as well.

“This mission is now a joint one,” Selmak started. “Your enthusiasm over such a long period could not but affect, but it was seeing theirs that...helped. The work done on Dorieth has been remarkable, considering the persons involved. We were met with courtesy even from the Jaffa there, and only slightly less from the delegation from Chulak.”

“And how did they deal with those on Dorieth?” Jolinar asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Like long-lost brothers,” Selmak said, shaking his head a little. “Even though the leaders carrying the most respect on Dorieth are not Jaffa. Indeed, they rallied together as a force opposite of the Council, united in their desire to push forward on this mission.”

“What did some of the other Councilmembers have to say on that?” Jolinar asked.

“Nothing, in the first moment,” remarked Selmak with a slight snort. “They were taken aback at the power that these people had. As if they expected them to be downtrodden and quickly cowed.”

“So there was mutual respect,” said Jolinar.

“Eventually, perhaps,” said Selmak. “The discussion surrounded the current position of Quetesh’s fleet, compared to the presence on planets. An all-out attack is certainly on the books, and all forces are being gathered together. Garshaw had barely explained this when Bra’tac insisted that he be allowed to let his people board these ships.”

“Ah,” said Jolinar. She and Sam could both guess how Garshaw might react.

“Much more discussion was needed,” Selmak said pointedly. “The—Doriens, I believe you called them, and they have adopted for the time—they also spoke urgently for being allowed to return to slavery for this mission. They seek those on the ships who they know, and think that they will be able to provide distraction and support during the attack. That prompted the Jaffa to insist that they could lead the slaves and what Jaffa would join to overcome each ship, if only they knew when they might board each one.” 

Jolinar sat for a moment, overwhelmed by the information. “Really?” Sam said, taking the moment to come forward.

Selmak nodded, breathing out. “It is not the Tok’ra way to have so many options.”

“That’s fantastic, though,” Sam continued. “There are enough people to be a large fifth column.”

Selmak paused as Jacob translated that for him. “So it would seem; if it could work in reality. Essentially, the Tok’ra will organize all proceedings as follow, to prevent rash actions. But they have signed an agreement that not only will they include both Free Jaffa and Doriens in the aspects, but the purpose of the mission will be to free all who are willing, and to win the fleet. The Tok’ra will only keep one of each type of ship and Quetesh’s flagship, and the rest will be divided equally between Chulak and Dorieth.”

Jolinar came back, skeptical for the moment. “How willing were the Council?”

“They bent with a struggle,” Selmak said. “But I believe they saw the cooperation of our new temporary allies, more than the youth and brashness. The Free Jaffa and Doriens welcome the support of the Tok’ra, who have all the knowledge. That eases things considerably.”

Sam nodded. “Wow.”

“What do you think?” Jacob asked, as Selmak had no more to say.

Sam thought for a moment, Jolinar too, but then looked up to her father’s eyes. “I hope it will work,” she said simply.

Jacob nodded.

Jaffa, Doriens, Tok’ra. In speeding up this mission to destroy Quetesh against the plan, they had managed to bring all these three together. Had not so much disaster brought it, and so much possible disaster in the future, Jolinar might have been self-satisfied. As it was, she and Sam merely let the news reignite their optimism.

ooooooo

Daniel had stared at hundreds of documents needed archiving, no one to tell him to take a break while Sha’re worked with Teal’c on her self-defense skills. So often he’d gotten distracted, following rabbit trails in between their missions, researching what he could. And then he came back to his office, and remembered that he wasn’t the only archaeologist, anthropologist, or historian on base. And so, today, he worked on getting things organized, and he’d do it until his eyes told him otherwise.

“Daniel?”

The soft voice didn’t quite make him jump, but it snapped him out of his focus. He glanced up to see Janet Frasier, her little smile making him wonder if it was the second time she’d had to say his name. “Hi,” said Daniel, looking up. “Did I forget something?”

“No,” she said, “I just had a question for you.” She stepped forward, resting her hands on the chair back in front of her, her smile fading. “It’s going to be Cassie’s birthday in two days.”

Daniel was about to give his congratulations, but Janet had almost sighed those words. He nodded once, remembering Sam with a twist of his heart.

“Things have been bad enough as it is, but this is her first birthday on Earth,” Janet continued, her lips pursing so that she could keep her composure. “And since Sam can’t be here like she promised, I want her to not notice. If I hold the party here, do you think your whole team will attend?”

Daniel nodded quickly, understanding her request. “Of course. We haven’t had a team night in a while, so this will be a welcome break. But, if you hold it at a nearby park, maybe, instead of here, then the families can come. I’m sure Cassie would enjoy seeing the Dixons.”

Janet nodded. “I didn’t think of that, thank you, Daniel. I’d like it to be a big thing, not too big, but enough.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Daniel said with a bit of a smile, remembering the last team night.

“I’ll get to planning then,” said Janet, a little more brightly.

The last time Daniel had seen Cassie, he remembered, she’d come to see Shifu but it had been a short visit. Now, though Janet didn’t specifically request it, she was going to join the SG-1 family. Which included more than SG-1 now, and Janet and Cassie would join Jean and Kaleb in that. He only wondered why it hadn’t happened before.

And two days later, as Clara Dixon blew up balloons and Sha’re laughed and bounced them towards Cassie, just as delighted by their strangeness, it almost seemed like they’d always been one big family like this.

ooooooo

The Council controlled all aspects of the alliance, as they said they would. They first sent word to Martouf and Lantash, and as soon as he sent back confirmation and more information, the details started being ordered about.

Eleven motherships were to participate in the battle against Ba’al’s fleet, surrounded by a little over two dozen alkesh, depending on how many could deploy in time. The moment Jolinar heard that, she knew they would not have a problem with sending such huge numbers to each ship that the true Jaffa would be suspicious.

The suspicion factor, however, was most important. And Sam and Jolinar were slightly surprised when they were chosen to pay frequent visits to both Chulak and Dorieth to watch over the training of both Jaffa and Doriens. They would need to imitate those on Quetesh’s ships, and that wouldn’t happen quite overnight.

Having a mission again felt right, even though they were merely following orders on this one. It felt so right, that it was almost a painful reminder of what they’d originally planned when they saw Vala’s face on hearing the news.

“This is so that soon, all traces of Quetesh will be gone,” Sam explained.

“I have nothing against that,” Vala said, looking at her with something like keen approval, in fact. In front of that was something more confused, though, maybe a little worried. “But I did not expect you to leave.”

“Vala, I—” Sam started, not knowing how to react. Vala wasn’t like Sha’re, and Sam had made the mistake of assuming that she would be. Sam didn’t know what she felt for Quetesh’s former host. A niggling doubt lay at the back of her mind, saying that she could hardly feel anything if she kept thinking of her in those terms. But surely that didn’t matter so much. “I can’t do anything for you here, we both know that.”

Vala looked at her sharply, but said nothing.

“How much do you remember now?” Sam asked out of curiosity.

“Will my answer change anything you do?” Vala asked back.

“I don’t know,” Sam said plainly, not letting the conversation drift too far. “Vala, you will need to make your own way. I hope you find enough of yourself to do that, and if not, then you can make more with what you have.”

The look Vala gave her was one that said that she didn’t think Sam knew what she was talking about. And on reflecting for a second, Sam realized that her words didn’t have much. But what was she supposed to do? What were any of the Tok’ra supposed to do? They couldn’t understand enough to help—it just wasn’t possible.

“You won’t be alone, though,” Sam said, hoping that this was all Vala needed reassurance on.

And then, just like that, Vala had disappeared behind the reserve she so often showed. No words, no open looks. Jolinar winced at it, but Sam only sighed inwardly. At least she knew that Vala could handle that.

With that, with a regret that neither of them had time to identify, they turned their attention to the gate and all they were going towards, not what they were leaving behind.

The Dorieth sun was like a friend shining down on them as they entered the gate in the soft beige-tan of the usual Tok’ra uniform. It had been a long time since they’d worn it.

“Gladly do I welcome our savior,” Creot said with a broad smile as he met them at the gate, offering his arm to clasp hers.

“Such words,” said Jolinar, partly protesting even as she offered her own arm. “But we are pleased that you do so well.”

Looking around, the planet seemed to shine with the newness of freedom. Everywhere the past marked places with evidence like scars; broken carts, cracks in walls, that still-half-finished temple to Quetesh. The Doriens did not point the focus on those, however. Instead, the village had been repaired and almost polished, and the roads and paths bustled with people willingly performing errands. Jolinar noted scrap metal being used to repair roofs already, and that was odd and yet endearing.

They walked past all this as Creot led them to where the leaders of Dorieth sat. Sam barely remembered Kronon, who had taken the mantle of Jaffa leadership on this world. Jolinar remembered him slightly better, but it was still odd how he of all of them had risen to the top. Sam wondered especially about Sheryen, but there was no time for that.

“My Jaffa will be ready to fight when it is time, of course,” said Kronon, the first to address Jolinar. “But they are not ready to face their brethren with anything but weapons.”

Jolinar nodded. “Our goal is to bring Bra’tac to you, or you to Bra’tac, so that you may learn more of the Free Jaffa. It will be his role to lead that movement, though, in all likelihood. For now, focus on maintaining your role aboard the Goa’uld ships.”

Sam wondered that too, wondered about the numbers and the math of it all. Next, though, Nirishi was speaking to her about the Doriens. “How much will they be allowed to spread word?”

“As operatives, they must remain silent until it is near the last moment,” Jolinar explained. “Only one word out of place might damage all chances, and with so many, that cannot ever be risked.”

The more Jolinar explained, the more she and Sam felt that they were only just appreciating this kind of caution. The less said, the better. It just meant less opportunities for accidents. Trust was good, but their limit was with these Jaffa and these Doriens, not those on the ship. Even if they were Abydonians. Sam wasn’t sure she’d agree with the Council on this, but now in the midst of it, she did.

A day later, when Sam and Jolinar were dealing with the Free Jaffa on Chulak, Martouf and Lantash sent another piece of information. This time, it was times when infiltrators could be sent to other worlds, where they might board their ships. Once there, Lantash had managed with Bra’tac’s help to find a few Jaffa already on their side and aboard, and those would help to subtly rearrange both Jaffa and Doriens to optimal positions.

Bra’tac was confident that they would all be ready. Not all of those who volunteered could manage to look as if they bore Quetesh’s mark on their foreheads, but that wasn’t so necessary; she had other converts among her army as well. Apart from that, Sam watched them switch from role to role each day, and thought that even the Tok’ra Council could not be more pleased at their skill at roleplaying.

That night, they sat by the fire with Bra’tac, going over all she’d seen in case there was some small thing she’d missed.

“Jolinar,” Bra’tac said, and she looked up to him. “You and Samantha are strange among the Tok’ra, are you not?”

Jolinar slowly nodded, mildly taken aback.

“It is of some interest to me that Tauri and Tok’ra, both only legends in my mind, should so join up as you have,” he said. “It was what gave us some kind of hope, when the negotiations first began.”

“We did not expect them to go so well or so quickly,” Jolinar said. “Because it is true, Samantha and I are strange. We move quickly, we change, we trust perhaps too much.”

“I believe I understood that after spending so many hours with your leaders,” Bra’tac said with a slight amusement in his tone. “The Tok’ra are not willingly open. Some of my people think they have something to hide, perhaps a plan to take advantage of us.”

Jolinar shook her head, brow creased. “No, that is not it. But once this is completed, I would not immediately count on any further interaction. Your involvement here is for damage control more than choosing a new path.”

“Victory is all that matters,” Bra’tac  said, with a firm nod.

Jolinar didn’t disagree. She dealt with other Jaffa with less trust in the Tok’ra, and the interaction made Sam glad that no one else was having to deal with the Jaffa like this. The smoother this appeared to go to the other Tok’ra, the more likely that Sam might convince them at the end to keep the pattern. Even so, she would be satisfied with a simple victory.


	10. Antebellum

Deep within the Tok’ra base, Sam couldn’t understand the magnitude of just what the Tok’ra were. Even on a single planet, they were just a few steps away, back home. Contained, accessible, a small core of devoted followers of a single cause.

But then she looked at the digital representation of Quetesh’s fleet, a hologram floating above a table in what used to be the commanders’ quarters on Dorieth. Screen after screen flickered with images, ships circling planets, and the estimated number of troops within on screen. And then she looked outside her own window at the crowded streets of this town on Dorieth. Rows upon rows of Jaffa lined in neat armor and with weapons at hand. Doriens had not finished their farewells to compatriots and families, clad in the more formal garb of those who attended to the needs on Quetesh’s ships.

Sam looked at them all, and knew that as soon as the gate opened they would depart deep into enemy territory. Deep in this case encompassing millions of miles, after which they would do their work in compartments that only barely kept out the unforgiving emptiness of space.

A hierarchy sat in place and they all knew it well. Martouf and Lantash now held the highest authority, but they had named the five Jaffa who answered the call to lead beneath them. Only five, but the fleet had not yet been arranged. Slaves had been offloaded to be resorted and regathered in preparation for battle, and the fleet lay around three close planets. Both Doriens and Jaffa would arrive at night on two of the planets, where their Jaffa contacts would arrange them into their teams before morning arrived. After this, each team of Jaffa and Doriens would be aboard their own ship, and would await the signs to bring the plan to conclusion.

Jolinar had looked back at the visual representation of the fleet on hologram, but she looked back to the crowds outside on the planet with a remark that wasn’t Sam’s._ *I have never fought war like this.*  
_  
This was something they could agree upon. _~Do you like it?~_

_*No, not really. It is all eggs in one basket, as you say. And—and I would prefer that it all be within my control.*_

_~Yeah,~ _Sam said. It might not have been the best, that they shared the desire to be in control of things. But it was at least comfortable. _~And given the face of Ren’al this morning, I think only the Doriens and the Jaffa are actually excited.~_

_*It is good that they have no bitterness,* _said Jolinar as she looked down on said people, fidgeting, waiting.

“Devret!” Inchen called to her as the sun drew to its correct place, and as Sam and Jolinar made their way up to the gate. He wore the blue-grey of one of those that would be sent to Quetesh’s former flagship. Sam paused and stepped a little closer to him. “We regret that there was no time to show you all of our work here,” he said in a lower tone.

“The opportunity isn’t gone yet,” said Sam with a bit of a smile. “We can wait for our tour.”

Inchen smiled, even as the anticipation gave him a tense appearance. “And if all goes well, a ship will crush the rubble of Quetesh’s construction, sitting there as both defense and reminder.”

“I certainly hope so,” said Sam, and clasped hands with him before continuing on.

Barely after reaching the top, the gate started to rumble with approaching wormhole. Sam nodded to the Jaffa nearest, and he passed it down the road to the awaiting “army” in the village. Sam could almost hear their rising murmur like a cloud coming up from the valley, even as the gate whooshed and opened.

A Jaffa stepped through, squinting his eyes against the sudden daylight on Dorieth. He bowed to Sam, who nodded to indicate that she knew who he was. Word passed down again, and a third of the people started walking up to the hill. The Jaffa dialed back to his world as they approached.

Sam watched Bra’tac on the other side of the road leading to the gate, watching as he nodded to every one of his Free Jaffa who passed, each one putting one clasped hand to their foreheads. Soon they were all gone, but Sam and Bra’tac stood up for another moment.  
_  
*It’s almost like sending family away, to you, isn’t it?*_ Jolinar asked without warning.  
_  
~I don’t know,~_ Sam answered, quickly but honestly. _~But I think I hope not.~  
_  
They walked back down to make sure of the timing for the next exodus, less than an hour away, but Jolinar wasn’t recalling the feelings of being a warlord sending soldiers out to be slaughtered. She wasn’t recalling any feelings; these were all new. But since Sam didn’t know either, it didn’t fascinate her for long.

They only managed a few more short comments and conversations before it felt time again, and the gate opened just before Sam crested the hill. Another Jaffa, another shifting movement of the crowd, another destination that they were all going to. All except her, of course.

But when they were finally all gone, and Jolinar was momentarily satisfied by the error-free event, even though they couldn’t know what happened on the other side, even then  Sam remembered how many were left. The old, the pregnant, those who could not master their terror enough to be in disguise. A crowd of them waited in the main village square for hours after the “troops” left, some thinking of family who had gone, others realizing that now all they could do was wait.

And Sam and Jolinar felt it perhaps most keenly of them all, as the light faded and they had nowhere to be.

None of the leaders sent back news of any failure, which in the code they had set up meant that all was going well. How well was unsure, but Sam felt that she was the only one to care about that much detail; her and Jolinar. Even Selmak seemed unconcerned or worried about anything.

Vala did not cling to them as soon as they got back. Sam barely saw her the rest of that day and most of the next. They spent hours with Selmak, too, so there should have been opportunity.

“She is like Sha’re,” said Larys when Sam asked if he’d seen her. “Roaming.”

Sam wondered at the truth of that, but found her mind much more interested in calming and waiting for the next news. And the day after that, it came. The recon of the other Goa’uld had been successful at last, and had discovered Ba’al’s central location around a fairly small planet called Selenis. “They are taking minimum time to think over it; they plan to attack Ba’al personally within three days.”

Jolinar thought upon hearing that, _*How has our speed infected the universe?*_

_~They’re just making sure he doesn’t disappear before they arrive.~  
_  
Three days, though. And if somehow their plan could work, the fourth day would see Quetesh’s entire empire without leadership, all her ships and worlds in the hands of free nations. And their only regret would be not seeing it in the moment.

ooooooo

“Well what am I supposed to do with this?” Daniel asked, frowning as he bounced Shifu on his knee.

“Don’t act like an idiot, Jackson,” McKay said. “You weren’t ever going to raise that kid here his whole life.”

Daniel stared at the government release form. “Where are we supposed to go? Sha’re hates cars and airplane noise, and Shifu sleeps badly enough. At least on base things are comfortable.”

“And dangerous,” McKay said, tone loud as if he thought Daniel didn’t hear him. “Good god, didn’t you hear what that amoeba Felger did?”

“No, actually,” said Daniel, finding McKay’s insults to his coworkers difficult to ascribe.

“Nearly released an alien organism into the ventilation system, that’s all,” said McKay, snorting. “I’d like to know who told him he was a biologist. But the point is—kids are resilient, sure, but they don’t belong here.”

Daniel looked back down at the paper, shifting Shifu to his other knee. “That’s probably the point; after that ship explosion caused all the cover story fuss, they’re trying to get back to the formal military rules that we started with.”

“You think that?” McKay asked, suddenly intrigued.

“It makes sense,” Daniel said. “All the government fuss about everything else is just leading towards that direction any way.”

“Who’s our government liaison?” McKay asked. “An egghead, or someone in their pocket?”

Daniel paused. “I don’t know. It didn’t really matter, the last time he came.”

“Well, someone had better put it through his head that messing with a system that works is the very definition of stupidity, which may be the government’s trademark, but I don’t think they’ll admit it,” said McKay with a little agitation, a little heat.

Shrugging, Daniel inwardly found it rather endearing how close McKay had become to his job, that had barely been his half a year. Then, however, he sighed and realized he’d have to discuss this with Sha’re. He’d gotten close to this too, in a more literal sense. And he liked being able to sleep in his office and still have his son within hearing. But if all this change was a storm cloud in the distance, it might also be good to do what he could to alleviate things.

oooooooo

It seemed like only hours after Sam and Jolinar heard about the planned attack on Ba’al at Selenis, that a small sphere was delivered to them. A Goa’uld communicator, usually, but the Tok’ra sometimes used them. And when Jolinar held it in her hand, the opaque color rippled and became a video screen. Sam was impressed.

“Lantash?” Jolinar asked upon seeing the face on the screen.

“Jolinar, my beloved,” he answered with easy seriousness. “How are you doing?”

“Nothing to say,” Jolinar answered.

“That is good,” said Lantash. “For Martouf and I have a request, that will involve some action on your part.”

Jolinar couldn’t hide that her eyebrow perked up at this point.

“I have spoken to the Council, and they agree with us that given the haste of this plan, too much is at risk.” Lantash paused only a second. “Not too much that it should be called off, but too much to be without a secondary plan.”

Jolinar nodded. Sam wasn’t sure, though, what more back-up there could be than the couple hundred or so allies aboard all the ships.

“It is our request that you, and a few Jaffa from Dorieth, take the cargo ship that you adapted to cloak and covertly join the fleet when we go to attack Ba’al,” said Lantash. “In that case, you may stay hidden if all goes well, but will be a trustworthy leader if needed.”

Jolinar blinked, then quickly went into her head. _*We may be part of the plan after all?*_

_~We aren’t going to say no, are we?~_ Sam asked urgently.

Jolinar’s answer served for both of them. “Was there any doubt that we would accept?”

Lantash smiled a little there, and it was nice even through the small screen on the communication sphere. “It will give us much comfort to know that your skills will be within our grasp should emergency strike.”

Jolinar huffed a little. “And we are more interested in not being required to sit and cool our heels to wait for news.”

Lantash nodded. “Very well. Assemble your ship and your team, and I have already sent the coordinates of where we are gathering. And—it will be good to have both of you on board, regardless of skills.”

“Likewise,” Jolinar answered with a small smile of her own.  
_  
~I certainly hope Anise hasn’t fussed too much with that cloaking device,~_ Sam thought.

Neither Anise nor Freya were currently on base, so Sam had to check for herself what the cloaking device could still do. Jolinar felt suspicious, but only for a second. Then, they watched the ship shimmer out of sight with the remote activator now provided, all feelings other than a subdued kind of glee left them. _~Not bad for a shoddy one time impulse job.~_

_*Samantha, have you always brought innovations wherever you go?*_

That question was rhetorical, but mostly because Jolinar could see Sam’s mind on everything but random questions. The cloak worked well now, but the power supply might not be fully stable for a whole journey. Two days still lay between their arrival in the fleet, and the fleet’s attack at Selenis on Ba’al; two days in which continued cloaking would be essential.  
_  
*We cannot control that,*_ Jolinar decided._ *Come, we must assemble our team.*  
_  
Sam smiled a little, a wistful smile, and Jolinar caught her tone of thought; Sam had taught her the value of teamwork, somehow, over these past six months. But then Jolinar just shrugged, and began heading towards the gate.

For the first time, quiet enveloped Dorieth when Sam and Jolinar traveled through the gate. Neither the hurry of slavery, nor the bustle of rebellion, just waiting and steady working. Sam and Jolinar both had not given thought to the survival of the planet once supplies ceased arriving as per Quetesh’s orders. Had they guessed beforehand, they would not have assumed that a slave population could reorganize, even with the Abydonians’ help. Now, though, it seemed obvious to assume that the people who spent their lives running the systems of this world could begin to understand them without orders.

And so they did, and Jolinar walked through them in silence. She wore simple Tok’ra brown today, and didn’t impress on any of them by sight. Most of the Dorien Jaffa now worked among their human counterparts. Not all of them looked pleased about it, but no resentment lay in their eyes either. Jolinar knew that the ones who bore that burden would still be incarcerated on the planet. Not many, thankfully.  
_  
~I don’t think it would have worked if the Doriens had not been in charge,~_ Sam commented. _~Left on their own, the Jaffa might have sought a new master, or waited for one. But the Doriens forced them to at least think of freedom, and what slave when given that option will not choose to think a little more?~_

Jolinar stopped for a second, standing on the road that she and Sam had brought to this planet, still a work in progress moving forward. She recognized this one. “Corrifin,” she said.

The Jaffa looked up, hoe in his hand where he had been crushing gravel into the road bed. His eyes widened, but he did not stand to attention. “Am I to refer to you as Devret?” he asked cautiously.

Sam didn’t know why they still kept their name hidden, but Jolinar was quick to nod. “That will do well. How go you?”

Corrifin said nothing. He had never been one of the more vocal Jaffa, though granted those were few in any case. “I wish to return to my family in safety,” he said, his dark eyes meeting hers with an ease, and yet it would have been considered boldness, of someone who is learning what freedom feels like. “And since I may no longer doing that by serving my god, I am holding on to the hope that they may be freed as well with this action. I am not certain on it.”

Jolinar nodded. “But you are satisfied on this planet, waiting?”

The look on Corrifin’s burnt umber face told the emphatic ‘no’ better than the word itself.

Jolinar nodded again, swifter. “Come then, and you may join me in a covert mission. It can only help.”

Corrifin’s eyebrows rose. “You would give your trust so far?”

Jolinar eyed him from under an eyebrow. “I would hardly give you a weapon and myself go without, but yes, as far as the mission goes, I would trust you.”

“And I should hardly say no to a chance at honor and victory,” Corrifin said, straightening.

“Neither should I,” Jolinar said with a slight quirk of her lips. She tipped her head towards him. “Gather your things, then. We depart in but a few hours.”

And Sam simply sat in the back of her head, pleased. Jolinar knew that she would not have done something like this a year ago, certainly not with Jaffa. But it was Sam who acknowledged it in the open, as Jolinar continued her search. Two more Jaffa, Or’on and Hemshet, also appeared open to Jolinar’s request, and finished off the team she assembled.

After a quick stop back at the Tok’ra base to gather some supplies and to change uniforms, Sam and Jolinar returned to Dorieth to find their small team waiting. It was strange, and they all acknowledged it with odd looks that they tried to hide. But Jolinar nodded firmly, and the other three nodded back, and they were all ready for the fight to come.

Sam took the controls once they boarded the cloakable teltac, and punched in the coordinates that Martouf and Lantash had set. A whoosh of stars and purple hyperspace clouds, and then they popped out into regular space again. They had arrived on the border of the system where Quetesh’s fleet was gathering. Sam cloaked, gave the ship a few moments just in case, and then started flying the ship in.

“And now we wait?” asked Corrifin, taking the copilot’s seat.

Jolinar nodded slowly. “We may communicate with Tirnin through Tok’ra communications, but even he would not and cannot increase the speed.”

“This ship,” said Or’on, glancing around as he stood between the two seats. “Will we receive this technology once the battle is won?”

Jolinar hesitated, leaving Sam to take control. “That’s not an easy question,” Sam said. “I assume you mean the cloaking, and that’s not fully trustworthy yet.”

Or’on gave her a look, sharp blue eyes not quite fearful but almost.

“We don’t consider it a risk at the moment,” Sam continued, looking him in the eye even as she maneuvered to the edge of the system. “But it needs more testing before it’s ready to do anything with.”

But that answer was enough, and all four of the motley crew now became distracted, as Sam rotated the ship to face the fleet. Sam thought of the power of this mass, just as soon as their operatives could take control; Jolinar thought of the danger to Ba’al if they met delays for even a second. When Sam glanced back at the Jaffa, though, she saw in their eyes the awe of imagining that all these ships might be theirs. The price of freedom might be worth the cost if it came with this.

Sam glanced at the timing, seeing that it was in the timeframe where they could make contact. She flicked the switches on the console, finding the Tok’ra frequency. “The teltac is now in place,” she said, keeping it simple.  
_  
“Excellent news,”_ came Lantash’s voice back after a few seconds.

“What do you expect of this battle?” she asked again, eyes still on the fleet, relishing the sense of a plan going well.  
_  
“I trust in the plan,”_ Lantash said, _“but nonetheless there are variables. I do not think that these Goa’uld leaders know enough of Ba’al’s tactics to properly fight him. And yet, he will be expecting Quetesh’s personal touch; the news of her death has not spread yet.”  
_  
“How fast do you think our people will be able to take control of the ships?” Sam asked.  
_  
“Idle questioning, is it not?” _Lantash offered, the wryness in his voice slightly weary.

“Maybe, yes,” Sam answered, her mouth twisting in half a smile. “Idle speculation is all there is to do right now.”  
_  
“True. It is not to be discouraged, either, as long as you don’t create conclusions from speculation.”  
_  
Jolinar took control for the moment, a little dark hum in the back of her throat. “We are well aware with the fact that it will be necessary to improvise.”  
_  
“Yes, that is something you excel at—it is why you are here, remember?”  
_  
“Then we will speculate, idly, until we are needed,” said Jolinar. A slight acknowledgment from the other side, and then she ended the connection.

They all four sat or stood still for the next few minutes. Sam wanted to ask questions of the Jaffa, something more personal than their willingness to join a Tok’ra spy mission. Jolinar caught her before she attempted it, though, her own thoughts certain that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Jaffa culture did not tend to conversation, and certainly not before a battle. Sam, too, would probably be better if she thought of this as war times.

~It’s the last war, in a sense. We did this all backwards, taking out Quetesh first, but it’s the two things we needed.~

*With this done, we can finally accomplish our goal.*

~The only one we ever had.~

*And then all we have left is to gather the pieces.*


	11. Victory

Perhaps on some world a sun rose red to foretell the battle that lay ahead. But Sam and Jolinar and all those who would fight today had been in space for more than two days, and day had no true meaning. Such as it was, however, the morning came with fresh anticipation.

Jolinar watched from behind the one-way blindness of the cloak on their ship, listening to the orders over the comms and watching the ships organizing themselves. Quetesh’s lieutenants were surprisingly cooperative.

The giant ships tilted, rotated, and from where she was Jolinar could see the entire fleet. She wondered if the ships in front knew that they were weaker, almost a kind of bait or shield, in case Ba’al was ready for them. But the larger and stronger ships weren’t far behind either.

No one on Jolinar’s ship spoke, and even Sam had no specific thoughts. Maybe the same was true on the other ships; maybe the undercover Abydonians and Free Jaffa did not betray their anxiousness with any sounds. One could only hope. In a couple hours at most, they would have to rebel against an army that had been their lifelong fearmonger. And the Jaffa would have to rise up against brethren, and hope that they would see that connection as a higher loyalty.

If not, blood would be spilt. And for all her reluctance, as Jolinar pondered Ba’al’s fleet now, she only thought of the Jaffa as potential allies. Even were it not necessary to keep Ba’al in power, she wouldn’t have been pleased if those lives had been lost. For once in her life, this battle was solely to prevent all bloodshed.

“What will our role be?” asked Hemshet suddenly, as the fleet was almost ready to jump into hyperspace.

“Support,” said Jolinar. “If there’s disaster, we can offer advice or the element of surprise.”

“We are ready,” Lantash’s voice crackled over the Tok’ra frequency.

“Understood,” Jolinar said. She glanced back, noting that the Jaffa had all taken their places, standing or sitting ready. Breathing in slowly, she punched the hyperspace coordinates into the controls. Out the window, the ships all jumped within a few seconds of each other, disappearing in flash after flash.  
_  
~I love this part,~_ Sam said with plain appreciation.

Jolinar answered with a short nod, then pressed the control. A slight lurch, and they jerked into hyperspace. It would be a short trip.

Even going at un-upgraded speeds, Selenis only lay a few minutes from where the fleet had assembled. Barely enough time for Sam and Jolinar to really understand what would wait them, before they jumped back out, and into the chaos that would only get worse.

Jolinar flicked the cloak up immediately, and then saw outside the window. Selenis, the planet, shone green-blue in front of them, but Ba’al’s fleet surrounded it on all sides. It was at least twice the size of theirs.  
_  
*Not the best,*_ Jolinar commented, quickly but coolly. Still, her heart raced even though they were hidden.

Only a second after arrival, the ships began to move. Even in the vastness of this space, they moved fast, some of Ba’al’s coming around from what was now the backside of the planet, and the ones already in front positioning to open fire.

Jolinar flicked the switch to hear the comm orders of the Goa’uld on their side, then shot her gaze back out to the fleet. They flew forward in one organized mass as the first shots lit up the vacuum of space.  
_  
~What do you suppose Ba’al is doing?~_ Sam asked, distracted from their original goal.

Jolinar looked back to his fleet, and caught sight of a ship far back, and far larger than usual. _*Flagship,* _she said.

Behind them, the other Jaffa had come forward and watched out the window. The comms buzzed with short orders, but more was happening than was ordered. Ba’al’s ships clustered until one could hardly see the planet behind them, sending out deliberate and continual volleys. Goa’uld shields held for now, but Quetesh’s fleet was diving into it.

A minute later, one of the teltacs exploded, and in the shielding cloud of debris one of Quetesh’s former hatak’s managed to break through Ba’al’s front line, barely passing the ships. Still, there seemed no plan beyond simple attack.  
_  
~When will the takeover happen?~_ Sam wondered, slightly worried.

But Jolinar perked up after a minute when an unfamiliar Goa’uld voice came over the radio.   
_  
“Spare no damage. Break through. We must behead this fleet.”  
_  
Jolinar’s hands gripped the controls, and suddenly their ship was moving in, the chaos of action growing larger and larger.  
_  
~They’re going after the flagship,~_ Sam said, understanding immediately.  
_  
*And Quetesh wouldn’t kill Ba’al, which he knows, but this isn’t Quetesh’s fleet anymore.*_

_~But he wouldn’t—surely—~_

Jolinar wouldn’t wait to see if Ba’al would underestimate anything. They couldn’t hear the shots from Ba’al’s defense as they flew between them, undetected, unshielded with the cloak, but everything outside the window was bright like a fireworks show.  
_  
~Is our plan going well?~_ Sam wondered, trying to see what was happening.  
_  
*Nothing over the comms yet,*_ Jolinar commented.

Quetesh’s flagship was diving straight toward Ba’al’s, almost collision speed. It started firing a few seconds before his, but straight at the heart of the ship. Sam saw the explosions almost immediately.  
_  
*His shields were on weapons, not his core,*_ Jolinar said, and added a silent curse. _*He expected disabling shots; he expected her to try and capture him.*_

_~Wait, he can’t be destroyed, that’s the whole point of our mission,~ _Sam answered, worried for real. The ships grew larger, both firing but Ba’al’s already on fire.  
_  
“Jolinar?”_ Lantash’s voice sounded over the comm, slightly interrupted in the middle.

“In the center,” Jolinar shot back, almost spinning the teltac to get into position.

That was enough, and she wasn’t distracted as she prepared her defense. Quetesh’s flagship had nothing to fear yet, and then suddenly Jolinar turned off the cloak. Gliding in on the left, she fired three shots into the front weapons arrays on the ship, and then just turned the ship before reengaging the cloak. Both times, it worked flawlessly, and Sam and Jolinar felt a thrill at the success.

Caught in the moment, Jolinar spun around, Ba’al’s ship saved and now behind them. But no battle raged behind, on the outer defense of Selenis. Instead, Quetesh’s ships flew forward without detour or change of course. Flying only on the last course set, Sam immediately guessed that no one was at the helms.

“Success?” asked Or’on, gripping the back of Corrifin’s copilot seat.  
_  
“This is Natar of the Free Jaffa!”_ came a loud, firm voice over the comm. _“We have taken this ship from the false gods, and call all our brethren to do so. You have allies waiting to help you—join our fight and gain your freedom!”  
_  
Or’on slammed his hand down on the back of the seat, glint of satisfaction and excitement in his eyes.  
_  
*They were already on the way,* _Jolinar added, eyes flicking between the ships. Ba’al’s were still firing, but the shields on the other ships still held on long enough._ *This is just the vocalization.*_

_“And I am Herak of the Free Jaffa, bringing another ship to freedom!” _came another call.

Sam felt Jolinar’s knuckles whiten as it seemed to be working. In the dark of space, only brightened by weapons, she still caught sight of two ships pulling back from Selenis. And then, though the comms didn’t buzz again, two more.  
_  
“Jolinar,_” came Lantash’s voice over the Tok’ra frequency. _“Come, withdraw. This ship is also free, and I intend to clear a path for the rest of ours, free yet or not.”_

“No point in hiding anymore, then,” Jolinar answered.

Several of Ba’al’s ships had withdrawn around the still-burning flagship, and Jolinar had a clear path as soon as she turned off the cloak and turned on her shield. A clear path was not what she needed. Flanking on what felt like a dime to Sam, she sent a few shots at the ships nearest, clustered against some of Quetesh’s. They stopped firing for a second, and Jolinar used her maneuverability to duck beneath a few, coming up to fire at more.

It was barely needed, though. Half of Quetesh’s ships had fallen back before Jolinar first fired, and all but two al’kesh and one small hatak still foundered among the volleys of Ba’al’s ships when she pulled up outside of Selenis’ defenses.  
_  
“We are allied, and we have won,”_ came Lantash’s voice over the command frequency._ “Now we return before Ba’al destroys it.”  
_  
Jolinar paused only a second to wonder about the other ships, but then she had the return coordinates in the system. Ba’al’s ships were still rearranging when they shot back into hyperspace.

ooooooo

“I swear, nothing is happening anywhere in the universe,” McKay said, kicking the edge of the table sharply to push back in his chair.

“Rodney,” Daniel sighed. Since when was his most common conversation partner always McKay? “If you just came into my office to complain—”

“Don’t act like it doesn’t affect you,” McKay interrupted, pointing a finger at him. “You and Sha’re and your kid are stuck here, nothing changing. The Dixons are—as always. My sister does nothing but try to get more permission from the government, and rag on me if she doesn’t get it, and for that matter I’m not getting anything to do either. The team hasn’t been on a proper mission in weeks, since I don’t count the planet with the weird singing aliens and plants that didn’t have anything interesting, and nothing looks like it’s changing.”

Daniel fidgeted with his pencil, but decided to humor McKay. It always bugged him a little at how there was always truth in what the scientist said, even if it was overlaid by attitude. “I think Jack may be seeing Sara tonight.”

“Really?” McKay paused, letting his chair sit back up straight. “Why? How do you know?”

“It’s just speculation,” Daniel said.

“But that doesn’t disprove anything,” McKay answered back quickly.

“Do I want to know what you’re arguing about?” Dixon asked, arriving with his arms loosely crossed.

“McKay happens to think that nothing is ever going to happen apart from the status quo,” said Daniel, eyebrow’s slightly raised. “What do you think?”

Dixon jerked a little. “God, McKay, haven’t you watched any movies?” Before McKay could jump in to protest, he continued, “You just jinxed us, I swear.”

“Well, it could hardly be worse,” McKay said, only vaguely blustery at being outgeeked.

Dixon rolled his eyes, and McKay snapped his mouth shut, realizing his mistake. Daniel almost smiled, but decided not to. He didn’t quite trust their luck. And while with Shifu being both more a joy and more a pain the older he grew, he certainly didn’t lack for things happening in his own life, the rest of everything did feel a little too calm for comfort.

Maybe McKay was right; maybe everywhere in the universe nothing was going on.

ooooooo

Jolinar couldn’t hide a broad smile as she ringed down to the planet where they’d all organized only a few days before. Martouf and Lantash had come with a couple leaders, and slowly the ships were being unloaded. At least here there was a sun to shine brightly as a symbol of their victory.The buzz of elation filled both atmosphere and sound as the conversation flittered back and forth between topics of their success. Jolinar strode forward to her mates.

“We succeeded?” she said, but it was barely a question.

Martouf smiled back at her. “Something, at least.”

“Early tallies?” Jolinar asked, glancing around at the few Jaffa and Abydonians on the ground.

Martouf sighed then. “Many Jaffa had to be killed to achieve our goals, and some even ringed aboard Ba’al’s ships. But nearly all the slaves were rescued, if all reports are true.”

“What now?” asked one of the Jaffa leaders, approaching Jolinar and Martouf as they stood.

“We count our losses, give honor to the dead, and fulfill our agreements,” Martouf said simply. “But it will take time.”

“After the ships are exchanged, what is left?” Jolinar asked, relaying Sam’s question for her.

Martouf breathed out slowly, facing her. He spoke a little more softly. “Whether it was planned or not, the Jaffa have now formed their own nation to all intents and purposes. And the former slaves, both from the ships and on Dorieth—all of these things are not set up to exist permanently on their own.”

Jolinar settled a little, her excitement calmed. “Hmm.”  
_  
~It’s never over easily, I should have remembered that,~_ Sam said, feeling a little sheepish.

“And in all truthfulness, it would be proper to exchange the ships with a proper government,” Martouf continued, glancing out at the assembling Free Jaffa, his arms crossed a little as he seemed to see a vast work to be done.

“So it was not just an alliance for this one mission,” Jolinar commented wryly.

“It worked beyond the Council’s dreams,” Martouf answered, looking back with satisfaction in his eyes. “I cannot see them unwilling to keep this advantage, this connection.”

“If they continue to use their minds, I agree with you,” said Jolinar, almost lightly.

But Sam’s mind had strayed from the point, and she saw Drego ring down with a few other Abydonians. “Excuse us,” Jolinar said, nodding to Martouf before walking over.

“Devret!” said Drego brightly as she approached. His face looked worn with the day, but not heavy.

“What do you know of your people?” Sam asked, taking control to ask eagerly. It hadn’t escaped her mind for long that this had been their secret goal all the time.

“That many are saved,” said Drego, though his smile looked vaguely pain. “Not all well, but all now free. And the Jaffa—they are not our enemies.” He reached out to touch Sam’s hand. “So much has happened that we did not imagine.”

“It is kind of amazing,” Sam acknowledged, looking around the planet and wondering what freedom felt like when it was brand new.

“We must gather all of us, count ourselves,” Drego mentioned. “We knew every name.”

“Are you going to ally with the Jaffa?” Sam asked.

“How should I know?” Drego asked, then laughed, tired as he was. “How should I know anything? We are free, the choice is ours, any choice we could wish to make.”

Sam answered with a short laugh, squeezing his hand. “Free again.”  
_  
*On this world, perhaps,_* Jolinar said just to remind Sam.

But as the sun shone brighter and then began to dip low, Martouf and Lantash spoke to the previously set leaders, to those who led outside of the battle, and Sam and Jolinar gathered what information they could.

This planet had no strong Goa’uld presence; it’s people joined freely. Dorieth would also be a safe place, and then Bra’tac came forward and suggested Chulak.

“You speak the truth when you say that we are riding on a wave of one triumph,” Bra’tac said. “And if we are to continue, we must remember what we accomplished. Chulak is the downfall of Apophis, Dorieth the downfall of Quetesh. Let them be symbols, guarded, but let this world serve as our core.”

“What about Quetesh’s other worlds?” asked Nirishi, who had arrived from Dorieth a couple hours after the return from the battle.

“We approach them with our fleet, explain the options, and deal with any who would seek to attack us,” said Inchen with a slight shrug.

Lantash shook his head shortly. “Do not be so rash in your first actions. These deeds will spread among the Goa’uld as it is, but if you keep low, the full extent may not strike them for some time.”

“Through the chappa’ai, then?” asked Emeron, one of the new Jaffa leaders.

“Possibly,” Lantash said. “But first, do you not wish to know what you are and what your goals are? At the moment you band together as an organized mob; you are more than that, so arrange yourself as that first, before you give yourselves missions.”

The advice was well received. Sam felt the aura of exhilaration among them all, an attitude that made them want to shout to the entire universe that they ruled it. False gods no longer frightened them; Jolinar knew that soon they would have reason to fear again, though still less than they had before. But unlike what she feared, they did not fall flat as soon as an attempt at official organization came about.

Sam and Jolinar spent the night on the planet, as Martouf and Lantash returned to the base for debriefing. By the next night, counts were in, and almost the first census of the new Free Jaffa Nation. Except—and maybe that would be the first on the agenda—what of those who were not Jaffa?

But Sam and Jolinar did not sleep well that second night. While Jaffa and Doriens seemed to still run on the adrenaline of victory, Jolinar felt that her own body could not take it so well. A lingering feeling of wearing out gripped her, and she wondered incredulously how she could not be fully recovered at this point. Sam pressed the point that there was no reason to be on this world, and Jolinar took only a few more hours to agree and return to the Tok’ra base.

It was some vague amusement to them to find a similar buzz among their own people. The Council seemed to be aflutter, all their expectations collapsed under the weight of underestimation and just plain good luck. Selmak explained it best when they met.

“After all the rashness you showed that did not succeed, you were justified in the end,” he said, looking at her with a fond almost-smile. “And were it just you, they could admit that a long shot pulled off. But they have hundreds of witnesses eager to carry on. They cannot simply ignore them and carry on in secrecy, not when they want an alliance that will lead to further victories. But they cannot do that either, give up our whole goal.”

Jolinar nodded. “And so the debate rages on.”

Selmak hmmed, looking at her from underneath deep brows. “Upheaval should not be a continual state.”

“At least the Free Jaffa know how much planning went into the mission,” Sam said with a slight shrug. “And I think Bra’tac knows even more of the circumstances.”

“Well, we can only hope that they prove so wise when they ask for negotiations,” Selmak said sighing. He almost turned to walk away, then reached out to touch Sam’s shoulder, rub it softly. “They may not say it, but you did end up preserving our entire purpose, or at least helping with it. It is a matter of pride for you.”

Sam smiled. “Well, I hope so.”

But she and Jolinar walked away from the buzz. Jolinar took a long bath, breathing in the scented steam  and hoping it would cleanse the last vestiges of what kept them from reaching peak condition again.  
_  
~What is next for us?~_ Sam wondered.  
_  
*Clean up the mess, help the Abydonians find themselves, what else?*_

_~I don’t know,~_ said Sam, not quite ready to focus back on the sensual pleasure of the warm bath. But for so long she’d been focusing on the moment, and now she felt that she was forgetting the future.  
_  
*The future will be full of little things to hold our attention,* _Jolinar assured, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly.

Given the post-battle mess they’d already seen, Sam couldn’t help but agree with that.


	12. Communication

Sam and Jolinar's first sleep without any urgent mission on the horizon didn’t fall smoothly. Curled beneath the warm blankets, Jolinar woke first when the alert sounded just outside the lack of door in their chamber. She blinked, as Sam woke a little more slowly, then held the blanket to her chest and grabbed the robe that sat by their bed. It was barely slipped on when a Tok’ra stopped in the doorway.

“What is it?” Jolinar asked quickly.

“Security has failed, but it is something you will be most called to,” said the Tok’ra, waiting as Jolinar stood and pushed her hair back.  
_  
~How could that be?~_ Sam asked, but Jolinar’s frown spoke the question aloud for them.

“It is Quetesh’s host,” the Tok’ra explained as they walked quickly down the halls, the alert flashing and the sound annoying. “She incapacitated two guards by the rings when they refused to grant her access to the surface. We believe she is up there now, but the gate is guarded.”

“So, like Cordesh,” Jolinar said, half under her breath.  
_  
~What is Vala doing?_~ Sam wondered, worried for everyone involved.

“We have spent no time with her, so we do not know how to deal with this,” the Tok’ra explained. “Garshaw asked for you.”

“Of course,” Jolinar said, the last of sleep bleariness gone from her eyes, even if her mind felt a little heavy.

It only took a couple minutes to get to Garshaw, and the Grand Councillor spoke swiftly. “Vala Mal Doran cannot leave like this; she is behaving unstably, and is a risk to both us and herself.”

Sam nodded.

“I was afraid of this, even after what you seemed to accomplish,” Garshaw said with a sigh.  
_  
~Why does it have to be so difficult?~_ Sam wondered. But now was not the time. She and Jolinar ringed to the surface, and met the pure dark of the sky, full moon and stars giving long shadows to every rock and dune.

Four Tok’ra stood by the gate, not letting Sam’s presence distract them from their task.  
_  
*She will be waiting nearby, we may assume,*_ Jolinar said, addressing their task._ *But what can she be thinking?*_

_~Maybe she isn’t, I don’t know.~_ But Sam did know that this didn’t feel right.

Jolinar scanned the horizon, but she couldn’t get into Vala’s head to know where she’d head. After standing for a moment, her eyes finally adjusting to the lighting, she decided to go on instinct. It was more than a guess, all things considered.

Vala wasn’t Cordesh, however. Jolinar had barely gone two hundred yards from the gate when she caught a glimpse of movement. She darted silently after it.

Her feet patted almost without sound across the soft sand, and she’d almost caught up to Vala when the woman turned around.

“Vala, do not run,” Jolinar asked, putting out a hand.

Vala turned sharply to dart away again, but tripped over the unstable surface. Jolinar stepped forward to grab her hand, hold her still. But Jolinar didn’t see Vala’s hand clench in the dark, and so was completely off guard when Vala punched her sharply across the jaw. Jolinar’s head snapped back, and she felt more shock than she should have, given how desperate Vala had already shown herself.

“Vala,” Jolinar started to say a second after, still not letting go, but Vala’s fist came up again and Jolinar didn’t have time to think, she just shot her own punch back at Vala.

Vala breathed in sharply at the hit, but stopped trying to escape, bringing her hand up to her face. Sam regretted the action, and Jolinar didn’t need much convincing, but now they had nothing—Sam took control to step closer to the now-still Vala.

“We aren’t your enemy, Vala,” she said softly.

But even in the dark, Vala’s eyes were wide and bright with fright. “Let me go,” she ordered, voice shaking.

“Vala, wait,” Sam tried again.

But Vala tried to yank her hand away, and only succeeded in toppling Sam over, so they fell crashing to the sand. Vala choked in a breath, and started striking out again, trying to push Sam away. “Hey,” tried Sam, but the first strike hit her stomach, and her breath caught in her throat. She held Vala’s shoulders, but another strike hit her, and another.

Vala’s breaths were coming in fast, no plan in her actions. _*What now?*_ Jolinar asked.  
_  
~I don’t know; she’s terrified of capture.~_

But that gave Sam the only idea she had, so she just held on firmly to Vala, gritting her teeth as she gripped the woman’s shoulder and refused to let go. Vala pummeled all the strength she could into Sam, but her breaths turned into sobs, and her strength faltered.  
_  
*It is catharsis,*_ Jolinar said, emotions dawning on her as she could finally breath without being struck. _*She pushed away her fear and hatred, and it manifested as this.*_

_~We’re a Quetesh substitute?~_ Sam asked, horror drowning out some of the aching pain from Vala’s attack.  
_  
*And we are not responding, not accepting her request to fight back.*  
_  
Vala crumpled on the sand, gasping hard, without any further recourse. Even in the dark and the near-chaos, she didn’t try to escape again. Sam loosened her grip, just half sat next to her. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry we stole your revenge from you.”

“Don’t,” Vala managed, voice tight, face shadowed by the backlighting of the moon. “It wasn’t mine to take. I didn’t fight before. I can only run now, but not even—”

“You were running, yes,” Sam said, Jolinar’s tone bleeding through. “We gathered that.”

“I have nothing here,” Vala countered, flinging the emotionally saturated words at her.

“So you just run?” Sam asked, almost incredulous. Vala just lay on the sand, silent. “This is ridiculous,” Sam continued. Disgust was rising, not for Vala herself, but for something that couldn’t easily be articulated, and all Sam knew was that Jolinar felt it first. “So maybe your family is dead, maybe you have no friends, maybe you’re just afraid that even this nightmare is too good to be true. But after all we went through to destroy Quetesh, this is what you’re going to do with that gift? Run away? And then what, keep running, forever?”

Vala sat up. “I don’t have much alternative, do I?” she said, a fake lightness in her voice as she tossed a hand towards Sam.

“Don’t say that,” Sam said, pointing a finger at her. “You didn’t even ask, so how can you know?”

“You are Goa’uld,” Vala protested.

“And you know that isn’t true,” Sam said back. “But even—even if you were so upset, why didn’t you just tell someone? Why not ask for help, or even ask for another place to go? Why attack innocent people on your escape as if you were a criminal? Vala, have you thought at all about what you’ve been doing?” Even as she said it, though, she felt Jolinar appreciate the irony, and her accusation might as well apply to her and Jolinar. And that stung, now that she addressed it.

“I couldn’t know if you’d let me go—asking would give away too much,” Vala said.

“We’re not Quetesh,” Sam said firmly, and watched as Vala’s defensive stance tightened. “There’s no need for trickery.”

“But what now?” Vala asked, almost a demand.

What now indeed. The question was uncomfortable for them all.

“You need to figure out what kind of life you want, and then make it happen,” Sam said after a second. And then, in not a particularly gentle gesture, just a bold one, she put out her hand to hold Vala’s again. “And we’re not going to make you do that while you’re on the run.”

Vala looked at her, all the weight of slavery and exposure to a devious mind clearly hanging as baggage in the back of her mind.

Sam’s frustration, more with herself than Vala, she now realized, waned. “Please?” she offered, a little more honest. “Please stop running.”

“I hit you,” Vala said, with a slight tip of her head.

“I’m not dead,” Sam said, and managed a weak smile.

“I didn’t want to,” Vala admitted.

“Well, if you can help me up, that would be good,” Sam said, wincing now that she thought of it.

Vala got to her feet and tentatively lowered a hand. Sam breathed out slowly as she rose, feeling Jolinar already starting on healing the would-be bruises on her torso. Then, in a moment that Sam had not expected, Vala offered her arm. Sam accepted the support; not necessary for her physically, but she had figured out by now that Vala needed to be wanted. So, leaning on her shoulder, they started walking back towards the rings.

“Quetesh is dead and gone, you know,” Sam offered as they walked, feeling the ache of the marks of Vala’s panic start to fade. “Her kingdom is fallen. You have a whole life to plan.”

“I have nothing to even start with,” Vala said barely loud enough for her to hear.

And then, Jolinar could identify her sympathy. Memories threatened to flood on her, the first baby steps after a life of tyranny, with nothing she could pull on to help her. Suddenly she could sympathize with a host. “Nothing wrong with a clean slate,” Sam said, and in a way it was to all of them.

Vala didn’t speak again, but Sam knew what to do for now.

ooooooo

“Team breakfast again?” Jack groaned, but taking a seat at the large commissary table anyway.

“A breakfast of friends, O’Neill,” Sha’re offered with a small smile, sitting across from Daniel and sitting Shifu on her knee.

Jack glanced around the table, seeing Teal’c, McKay, and Dixon more fully now. “What’s up?” he asked suspiciously.

Daniel didn’t want to ruin his meaningless grumpery with something more serious, but it had to be done. “A government agent is being sent to evaluate the Stargate program in a week and a half.”

“Again? Isn’t that becoming a little cliche?” Jack always managed to keep gravity from his tone, no matter what his eyes said.

“Yes, but so are the disasters that happen on most missions,” McKay said with a frustrated sigh.

“This hasn’t been a good year so far,” Daniel said. He hadn’t added it all up until hearing the news, but it didn’t surprise him.

“Earth’s still here,” Jack protested. “Which given the odds, is quite...something.”

“Bureaucrats can’t see that far,” Dixon said. “They see things like people lost, resources lost, opportunities lost. We haven’t made any new allies and we haven’t brought back anything important. In fact, most of the things we brought back bit us in the ass.”

“What about that Goa’uld thing you did to Teal’c,” Jack asked, looking at McKay.

McKay’s eyebrows rose almost hopefully, but Daniel decided to cut him off. “It only works if we have a hand device or a healing device.”

Jack made a buzzing hum for a second. “If they wanted more discoveries, they shouldn’t have limited our gate travel,” he said.

“Okay, wait a minute,” McKay said, putting up a finger. “Isn’t it something that we may know of a group also trying to destroy the Goa’uld?” He glanced at Sha’re for reference.

“No, what is something is that we don’t even know what this guy is coming here to do,” said Dixon.

“I don’t like this,” Jack said flatly. “I don’t care if we get out of this okay or not, I don’t like feeling under a constant watch.”

“It’s certainly not good business,” McKay said, turning his attention back to the breakfast the rest of them had abandoned.

Daniel looked to Sha’re for an opinion, but from where she had stood, most of the luck had been good. And maybe something would happen to change the rest of their opinions as well. Daniel could only hope.

ooooooo

“I do not want to stay here,” Vala still insisted, even after everything had been explained and excused. “The feel of—everywhere,” she said, waving her hand around the back of her neck.

“Naquadah,” said Sam, as they sat in the Tok’ra mess hall. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” And though the more casual tone seemed to soothe Vala more than any sympathy, Sam could remember her own first days on the Tok’ra base, how it had almost felt unsafe.

“I remember my homeworld,” Vala said, drawing her gaze away from the quiet surroundings to look at Sam. “Its name at least.”

“That’s good,” said Sam, perking up.

But Vala shook her head. “I have no family there. No one who would trust that—”  
_  
*The Tok’ra know of worlds where former hosts are welcomed,* _Jolinar said. _*They are quiet, simple, out of the way.*_

_~And Vala is none of those. Just look at her, she is itching to do something, she just hasn’t found a way to feel safe about it.~_

_*What do you think of Dorieth? Would they not trust our word that she is released?*_

_~Not yet, Jolinar. I don’t know what they would think, but Vala certainly isn’t ready.~_

“Are you talking to her?” Vala asked, half curious and half suspicious, pointing at Sam’s head.

“Yes,” Sam said. “Jolinar is a friend, we talk about everything.”

“That makes no sense,” Vala said with a shaky, dismissive laugh.

“I remember thinking that,” Sam said, voice trailing off with the thought.

“Why can I not leave?” Vala asked again, leaning forward. “You have not said.”

“It’s not safe for you, for many reasons,” Sam said. But she sighed, and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, feeling that it was a perverse situation that made talking to Vala easier after they had exchanged blows. Jolinar found that almost amusing as Sam spoke. “Look, Vala, I don’t have much more idea than you have. Truthfully, I don’t even know what I’m doing. Quetesh—threw off everything, and I’m still trying to align it all back to normal.”

Vala closed her eyes, shaking her head shortly. “I know, and I do not want to remember.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, looking Vala in the eye. And it was true, she had forgotten just how Vala’s face once made her jerk away in defense. “I’m just thinking, maybe I’m trying too soon.”

“But what else is there to do?” Vala asked, frowning. She looked around. “I will not stay in bed anymore. I have slept enough for three lifetimes.”

“Oh god, no,” Sam said with half a laugh. “That’s the worst. But, you know, there’s other things you can do here. I can show you all sorts of things. For one, I noticed last night that your fist was all wrong; it’s why your knuckles split.” She nodded to the small bandage on Vala’s hand.

“And?” Vala turned an eye on her.

“And, we can work on getting you some more defense skills,” Sam said. “It’s something to fill the time, until we figure out exactly what we need.”

“Is that all?” Vala’s eyes hadn’t exactly lit up, but she hadn’t recoiled either.

Sam sighed. “It doesn’t have to be.” She felt Jolinar right with her as she continued, “But I don’t feel like looking to the future anymore. We won a big war, and that’s going to have to keep me going for a while yet.”

Vala nodded slowly, then looked back up. “Tell me, how did you win the battle?”

Sam smiled; she didn’t mind reliving that over and over again. The more she talked, though, the more she felt unqualified and lost. Jolinar eventually pointed out, she was offering advice to Vala that she hoped would work for herself. But it sufficed in the moment; Sam found herself enjoying Vala’s company, now that the former host had been pushed to find her voice, and Vala seemed to almost eat up every bit of attention and interest pointed her way.

Martouf and Lantash came through the gate that evening, and found Sam in the mess hall again, covertly telling Vala which were the Tok’ra foods to avoid, and which ones didn’t take much effort to taste good.

“Back so soon?” Sam asked.

“Of course not,” said Lantash with a shake of his head. “We are only a hologram.”

Vala’s brow narrowed and she reached out a finger to poke his shoulder. He was perfectly solid, and she made a small dark noise under her breath before picking up her tray again.

“Things must be going well, if you’re being teasing again,” Sam said, biting back a small smile at the straightforward manner Vala cut away equivocation.

“Well enough; there is much news. May we join you?” Lantash cast a cautious glance Vala’s way.

Sam met Vala’s look, read the relative ease there, and then nodded to Lantash. They sat at their usual table, Sam pulling an extra chair for Vala to sit next to her.

Lantash had a look that said he was pleased with the day, more open than usual. He also seemed to have more words to say, but paused for a second, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“Well?” she asked, taking a bit of her food. Both she and Jolinar had not forgotten the last mission; much as they had been too weary to continue with it, the subject could hardly leave their mind.

“I am thinking if maybe the Council is right after all,” Lantash said, still meeting her gaze. “I had not thought so before, considering the good fortune that manifested. However, I now realize that were it not for your schemes, we should never have had to draft contracts between humans and Jaffa who cannot agree on the proper alliance.”

Jolinar found herself more interested. “Is it come to that indeed?” Sam felt a moment of pleasure to realize that Vala had not flinched even a moment to hear Lantash and Jolinar speak.

“Most certainly,” said Lantash. He sat back in his chair with a light sigh. “And the Council is not at all sure that I—or Martouf, rather—should be focusing my efforts on such a task that does not serve our greater goal. Again, it is your enthusiasm imbued into these people that gives us little other option. The Council might have taken that other option, left it all alone, were it not for my presence in this mission.”

“Do you regret now reinstating your status as operative?” Jolinar asked shrewdly.

“Regret, no, reevaluate, yes,” Lantash said. He sighed. “Martouf and I both are glad to have a more traditional approach at the end of this mission, or at least traditional for us.”

“How exactly has it gone?” Jolinar asked.

“Bra’tac and his Jaffa returned to Chulak, as you might remember,” said Lantash, steepling his fingers on the table as he talked. “But they returned yesterday with more purpose. Bra’tac has had a dream of a Free Jaffa nation for many years now, which is more than any of those from Quetesh’s forces could say, and even more than Sha’re’s people who are among the human population. He said that Chulak is already organized, and participants should all withdraw there until everything is settled. But his Jaffa are not inclined to welcome those who are not Jaffa.”

“Even after the battle?” Jolinar asked, incredulous.

Lantash vaguely shrugged. “As it now stands, there is some organization on Dorieth among the humans who were formerly slaves, even more on Chulak among the Jaffa, and a random assortment on the world where we assembled, which is now being renamed Calmah Tealc. Bra’tac did speak highly of the humans, though, mentioning others who had aided the Jaffa in the past and proved valuable allies. It was enough that Martouf could convince all of the leaders to agree to be allies. I believe integration would be their wisest choice, but so far it is not looking favorable.”

Sam wondered how the Tok’ra would view the outcome of this, in political terms. And she wondered how well these tiny nations could survive on their own after showing such  insolence to the Goa’uld. “What of the ships won in the battle?” Jolinar asked.

“That is a difficult point,” Lantash said with a slow nod. “But one thing which has been resolved is the entire population involved in this revolution. The Jaffa held in prison on Dorieth were given the news of what happened at Selenis, and then the sight of the multitude of Jaffa standing free gave them the final push to wish for freedom. Also, some humans from Dorieth made their way unbeknownst to us to another world, a breeding world as they called it.”

Sam and Jolinar listened even closely, but from the corner of their eye saw Vala shrink momentarily, casting her eyes downward as if not sure she wanted to hear more.

“It also has been freed, due to a resistance already set in place by some of Sha’re’s people held there,” Lantash said. He paused, a slight grimace on his face. “There was some difficulty given how many lives were lost, including many Jaffa. From that world, only a few have turned to join Bra’tac and the others.”

“This can’t go on forever, though,” Jolinar said with a frown, surprised and pleased, but worried at the same time.

“No,” Lantash said in firm agreement. “Which is why I returned here. The momentum must halt on its own soon, but Martouf and I believe that you giving your opinion on the matter would make it easier and sooner. Which is needed, given how little organization is set up.”

Jolinar nodded slowly. In a quick assessment, Sam saw no problem inherent. It would be a short matter, something necessary given how they and Vala now stood. “We will do that,” Jolinar said aloud.

“Does it not feel odd to you, separate so long from a mission that has been nearly all your work?” Lantash asked. “It feels odd for Martouf and I, as if we are coming in on the tail end and managing only small official business.”

“It is not something I would be comfortable with,” Jolinar said, short and honest as she looked him in the eye. “The negotiation.”

“So I might have guessed,” said Lantash with a small smile. “Shall I see you tomorrow then, on Calmah Tealc?”

Jolinar nodded.

Lantash glanced around the mess hall, though for no apparent reason. “Martouf is telling me that there are other things that call us, though honestly, I think both of us would prefer to spend the rest of the evening with you.”

Jolinar gave him a short look, holding back as much of her smile as she could. “Come now, go, take care of yourselves. I already have company.”

“So you do,” said Lantash, smiling at Vala, who was now looking up again.

“Oh,” said Sam, coming quickly to the front. “Vala, this is Lantash and his host Martouf. Martouf and Lantash, this is Vala Mal Doran.”

“It is an honor to see your true self,” Lantash said with a slight head nod.

Vala nodded back. Then Lantash excused himself from the table, and Sam turned back to Vala. “I was planning to show you the firing range tomorrow,” she said.

“I cannot shoot,” Vala said with a slight crease of her brows.

“Yes, I hoped I could teach you,” Sam said, tipping her head. “It’s something well worth learning. And, well, it’s something I do sometimes when I am frustrated and don’t know what to do about it. But you could figure it out on your own, I’m sure.”

Vala didn’t say anything for a second, then something in her eyes cleared. “Yes,” she said. “If it is allowed?”

“There are training weapons,” Sam said. “Besides, you can’t try to escape again until I have a chance to see how natural your aim is.”

“I believe I have very keen eyes,” said Vala, the hint of determination in her tone more playful than not.

“That works, then,” said Sam.

Vala gave her a small look that Sam couldn’t read, neither smile nor frown, then shook her head and continued eating with a more pondersome one.  
_  
*She is not like Sha’re at all,*_ Jolinar said.  
_  
~We don’t need a Sha’re right now,~_ Sam answered, as she took another bite of food. _~And she didn’t need us, and that’s a good thing. This is about Quetesh, and about finishing off that last little bit she has over us, and Vala too. Jolinar, this is what we need to be doing. Wiping every last influence out.~_

Jolinar could think of a few questions relating to that, but she didn’t ask them. No point in it. Deep down, a wound still festered; they and Vala had had too high a price exacted from them. Even with Quetesh gone, they had to convince themselves that it was over.


	13. Forestalling

Calmah Tealc gave Sam and Jolinar a thrill, walking through into its safe fields and buildings. It was one of the few habited planets like it, and to Jolinar at least it was worth the cost to make it so. Sam savored the grass that tickled her feet through her sandals, felt the sun through the cloud cover, and the difference was welcome.

Both Nirishi and Creot had arrived from Dorieth that day, and Kronon soon joined them. Home-made tunics unlike the ones they’d worn as slaves adorned them,

“You cannot understand the power that is now in our hands,” Creot said, gesturing to Sam with wide eyes.

“No, not really,” Sam said honestly. “But shouldn’t you be focusing that power, not exulting in it? Pride goes before a fall.”

“So it does,” said Nirishi with a rise of one eyebrow. “You are wise, Devret.”  
_  
*For giving a cliche from your world...well, it helps our point.*_ Jolinar’s tone stayed ironically light, though.

“But we can send the Goa’uld cowering in fear,” Kronon protested.

“Fear is not good in this case,” Sam said, shaking her head and facing all three of them. “They have the numbers to crush you; if you back them into a corner, make them afraid, they will strike out with all they have left. For now, let them think you a small victory.”

“I am not so sure that will succeed,” Nirishi said cautiously.

“That’s also true,” Sam said, sighing. “But focus on defense and maintaining good structure and alliances.”

She saw slight nods, and thought that would be good enough. “May I see what you have so far?”

Jolinar was not surprised that Kronon had much less desire to do so, and much less loud zeal overall._ *The Jaffa are proud, if nothing else.*_

_~Yes, but I keep thinking that surely they’ll open their eyes.~_

_*Some have. Not all.*  
_  
But those thoughts faded as they walked the streets of Calmah Tealc, and Sam spoke of roads and civilizations and the need for the former as well as running water. She felt frustrated that she didn’t know more, and Jolinar worried about the Tok’ra ability to help, since all their society revolved around technology that they could not give or teach.

Some things were already in place, though—rationed supplies divided equally among all people, persons set up to be magistrates for small concerns, and a census already underway.

Still, Jolinar feared that they could not accomplish enough before conflict destroyed them, somehow. Sam remembered her own history of the United States, and decided to put her hope in the scrappy but motivated innovators on the turf they’d won.

Near the middle of the day, however, as their mission seemed done, Jolinar saw Inchen approach her.

“May I have a word?” he asked, and the enthusiasm was less than usual.

“Of course,” Jolinar said, worried lines around her mouth.

“It is Abydos,” Inchen admitted, looking her full in the eye. “And all our people, who are not yet gathered and accounted for.”

Jolinar almost stepped back a pace, as the implication hit her then. “Certainly,” she said. “It was our plan all along to return you to your home-world.” But they’d forgotten that in the alliance of more than just Abydonians.

“All of us here have too many concerns to do the work,” Inchen said, face lightening a little at her assurance. “But if you can merely find them out, perhaps we may bring forth the issue of Abydos to discuss.”

Jolinar nodded. Inchen put out his hand to her arm and bowed his head in thanks, hurrying back to his work now that he had her promise.  
_  
~Do you remember, this was why we got in this position in the first place,~_ Sam said, connecting the past six months in that moment. _~Just rescuing Sha’re led us all the way here.~_

_*And they barely need our help anymore, which is some relief to me,* _Jolinar said._ *Do you think—is it possible that Vala might join us in this task? They may recognize her, but they are so close to us that I do not think she would be in any danger. I think Vala is ready for it.*_

_~We’ll see,~ _Sam said, as Jolinar made her way back to the gate.

ooooooo

“Dan’yel, have you seen Rodney?” Sha’re asked, peeking into Daniel’s lab in a Jack-ish kind of way.

“Uh, no,” Daniel said, pausing to look up at her. “What has he done now?”

“Well, I shall find that out once I find him,” said Sha’re. “He has Shifu.”

“Oh,” Daniel said, with a blink of shock. “Why would—what made you choose him?”

“I did not have time to find you this morning, if I wished to avoid lateness, and he was the first person I saw who I could trust.”

“Oh god,” Daniel muttered, with a slight smile that was yet apprehensive. Then, he looked up again. “What would you be late for?”

“My final meeting with Dr. Mackenzie,” Sha’re said, smiling broadly. She stepped into the room, hands half spread. “He has cleared me for my new position.”

On Daniel’s blank expression, she gasped, a little color rising to her cheeks.

“Oh, I had forgotten that you did not know,” she said with a half laugh. She came over to him, eyes alight. “I am now an official SGC intern, Dan’yel.”

“Oh—r-really?” Daniel said, caught off guard both by her words, and by suddenly noticing the SGC patch on her previous patch-less BDUs. Her hair was pulled back in a knot at the base of her neck, too, and she looked professional.

“Yes, really,” Sha’re said, smiling and resting her hands on his arm. “Shifu and I spent so much time with Jean as she worked on the—naquadah therapy, I think she called it? I learned much, and she said I had a good mind for such work. Your people had me seeing Dr. Mackenzie for ‘acclimation’ visits, and so I asked him if I could be cleared to work here, so that I might have something to better fill my days.”

Daniel was admittedly distracted by the glow in her face, making her look like a true goddess to him, but he wasn’t sure he understood her words. “You’ve only been here two and a half months,” he offered, confused.

“Yes, it is true,” she said, still smiling down at him. “But according to him, I have overcome ‘culture shock’ much faster than he would have imagined. He believes I am fit to work in a learning capacity, and though I did expect him to say that, I am glad to finally have it said. But you look at a loss.”

“I am lost,” Daniel admitted. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, rubbing there for a second. “So—you can work here now?”

Sha’re laughed quietly. “Yes, that is the core of it.”

“You know, you don’t have to, you aren’t required to,” Daniel said, suddenly worried for her motivation.

“Dan’yel, you really have not understood,” Sha’re said, tipping her head to one side. She leaned a little closer, a smile quirking her mouth in a bow. “I wish to do it. I asked for it. I am a part of this world now, but I did not have a work—now I do. I may even work for you, if you need it,” she added at the end, with a dance of one eyebrow.

Daniel bit back a little smile. “Good, good,” he said, bringing his other hand to rest on hers. “I feared for you, sometimes, in this strange place. I am glad you have found a place.”

“I will always find a place,” Sha’re said, contemplative for a moment. “I always promised myself that. But this place was prepared for me—all those nights on Abydos when you told me of your home, of carts that moved on their own, of writing on every wall and chair and wrapper around food. And then Sa’m, when she didn’t even know that I listened closely to every word she spoke of Earth. Her father too—him I could ask questions, make notes in my mind. By the time I got here, Dan’yel, it could not seem all that strange.”

“And so that’s your goal, blending in here?” Daniel asked curiously, turning in his chair to face her better.

“Mm, I think I like science,” Sha’re said, a smile of imagination on her face. “Better than history, I am sorry. I like atoms.”

“And I’m sure they like you back,” Daniel teased. “And Shifu? Shall he be staying with me more often?”

“No more than before,” Sha’re said, standing up as she remembered her child. “Janet showed me a baby chair that will allow me to rock him with one foot while I sit or stand, and even if he demands to be held, I may yet work my mind. It will be of no issue.”

“You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear all that,” Daniel said, squeezing her hand as she prepared to leave. Even as all might be crumbling around, Sha’re still found the good luck.

And as she went off to find McKay, it was yet another reason to hope that the luck of the SGC itself would hold.

ooooooo

“I have something you might want to do,” Sam said, reporting back to the Tok’ra base and Vala. “It is offworld, out in the fresh air, and it is helpful.”

One of Vala’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing.

Then, Sam felt the urge to say more, put more meaning into her idea. And Jolinar didn’t object, letting Sam take the lead. She sat down next to Vala. “I knew another person who the Goa’uld took. Her name was Sha’re, and Amonet took her for a year.”

She was surprised, though, to see the mask drop from Vala’s face. The other woman’s eyes seemed startled.

“The Tok’ra helped her, like you,” Sam continued. “But Quetesh kidnapped her people from their planet, and so Jolinar and I said that we would help free them. It wouldn’t be the same as helping Sha’re be free of Amonet, though, so we couldn’t tell the Tok’ra High Council.”

“You lied?” Vala broke in, clearly not happy with this. She sat up straighter on the bench in the hallway where the talked.

“No...” Sam said slowly, wondering if she could make the distinction clear to Vala, someone so fresh back to the world that every morality was black and white. Jolinar almost found it refreshing, just not at the moment. “Everything we said was true, from a certain point of view.”

Vala bit her lip, however, and frowned.

“Well, what mattered to us was that Sha’re’s people were our responsibility,” said Sam. “It’s why Jolinar and I fought Quetesh.” Strange, though, Jolinar pointed out—those were Jolinar’s thoughts, and Sam hadn’t been so easy to accept them in the beginning either. Sam wondered why she brought it up, though, and continued to speak to Vala. “And now—they’re all scattered among her worlds, and they’ve asked for our help in gathering them together. If all goes well, we can return them to their homeworld, and Jolinar and I will have fulfilled our promise.”

Vala gave a slow nod, the frown fading.

“And, we were thinking,” Sam started, slightly hesitant, “that this is laying to rest Quetesh for good. All the problems she caused, we’ll put to rights. At least, symbolically. You deserve the chance to do that, if you want to take it.”

Vala glanced up at Sam. “It is a little close, isn’t it?” she asked, a hint of pain on her face.

“The Abydonians are an amazing people, Vala,” Sam said, putting her hand on Vala’s knee and looking her in the eye. “They have spirit and good will, and will not treat you as anything but yourself, not when it is all explained. It’ll be a good kind of close, closure I hope. And I’ll be there the whole time—that’s the point. I’d kind of like to have a partner, actually.”

“I had guessed that you worked alone,” Vala said, the pain gone from her face even though she absently twisted her hands in her lap.

“Well, we can, Jolinar and I,” Sam admitted, tipping her head.   
_  
*Alone?*_

“It’s not really alone,” Sam amended. “But yes, it can be nice like that. Just...I thought you might be interested.”

Vala gave a laugh then, a dry one, but still a laugh. “Some day I will find such things for myself,” she said, with a hollow smile.

“I would hope so,” Sam said, her own voice on the verge of a chuckle. She smiled, her eyebrows slightly raised as she waited for Vala’s answer.

“But I am interested in fresh air,” Vala said, and she nodded her head towards Sam.

“Good,” said Sam, able to sound bright after hearing such an admission. She’d learned not to push Vala for more than this. _~Just like dealing with you, almost.~_

_*Hmm,* _was all Jolinar’s comment, but she didn’t deny it.

Now that she and Vala were past confrontation, there was less walking on eggshells. Sam didn’t know how anyone could deal with that on a regular basis; she was just not born to be a trauma counselor. But she could be supportive, and the sparks of strong will and quirks she saw in Vala made her want to see more of them. Maybe this mission would bring out the true person who had almost been lost. And also, it would almost be like teamwork, and that was a constant that Sam didn’t want to lose.

Jolinar had a moment of worry for the Abydonians, as they prepared to leave in a day’s time. Of all the worlds where they were known to be, it was possible that some of them had not been freed in the chaos. They might have to sneak in and break the Abydonians out. Sam doubted that it would be a difficult task, given the elapsed time, but even if they merely had to gather them all together, the mission would take serious thought.

Sam helped Vala with her clothing, then. The woman was nervous about her appearance, understandably. Jolinar knew the feeling all too well, and Sam had the recent past to recall. They found a more billowy tan robe, something designed for a sand world where sand upon skin would grate. It did not even hint at what Quetesh had tried for, though, so it was an accurate choice. Sam found a scarf of a slightly more silky fabric, though still the cream tan color, and when Vala had wrapped it tightly around her hair, she looked in the mirror and the corner of her lip quirked up.

“I’m still a little surprised at how much there is to find here, for a group so devoted to war,” Sam said, commenting on their dress. She herself was going in a dark linen dress, equally flowing but more styled. Jolinar smirked in her head, but they were both a little surprised to see Vala’s hint of a smile at it too.  
_  
*No, you were quite right about this,*_ Jolinar said._ *This mission is going in the right direction; we can all feel it, and it improves the mood.*  
_  
The morning after that, they were quite ready to ring up to the gate freely, and have Shan’ak open a wormhole to Calmah Tealc. The time difference only accounted for a few hours, and it was a good day on the other side. Sam breathed out, relaxing, just as Vala breathed in deeply. Sam had forgotten that she’d seen little but crystal walls for many days now, and Quetesh had not been outdoors often before that. The sun did her an immediate good.

And then it was to business. Vala had little to say, just kept to Sam’s side as she spoke to the people she needed to. The introduction was short, and as Sam had promised the Abydonians barely gave a start at the two-woman team who was helping them.

By the end of the day, Sam and Jolinar and Vala had talked to as many of the Abydonians on Calmah Tealc as they could, and had gone to Dorieth to find the rest. Vala was quieter on that world, and even Jolinar could sense more tension as they moved through the crowds. But that night they sat around a torch fire, and talked over what they had heard.

“For the most part we’re in luck,” Sam said. Somehow, it was nice to have a reason to speak aloud, rather than just in her head. She’d probably spoken more in the past two days than whole weeks before; the more they talked, too, the more Vala seemed to relax. Jolinar assumed that it was an appreciation of openness, and Sam had no reason to object. “Shumnan, the breeding world, is the first obstacle. I’m not sure when they’ll be ready to interact fully with the other worlds. The flagship is being transferred to the Tok’ra home-world, so we’ll have to contact them in a couple days. Dorieth has the majority of them, and those who were on the ships have mostly settled on Calmah Tealc.”

“What of Runya?” Vala put in, pointing to one of the notes on Sam’s datascreen.

“Yeah, that might be an issue,” Sam said, and scratched her head. “We’ve only hearsay that the few who were sent there are still there, so it would require a quiet mission. Get in, find them, get out. There might be resistance, though really it’s the getting out part that always has problems.” Jolinar sighed, concurring, in her head.

Vala didn’t have the basis for understanding, looking curiously to Sam. Sam swished her hand in Vala’s direction, and explained. “There is always only one exit, the gate. You never know if you’ve been tipped off, or if the guard’s changed, until you get back to it. It’s bad enough on your own, but when you’re helping prisoners escape...”

“And you do not take precautions, because the Tok’ra have limited resources,” Vala said, nodding, starting to understand the more Sam talked through things. Jolinar had noted her swift mind first, and guessed that seeing evidence of it was what endeared Vala to Sam now, and had not in her early recovery. However, the recollection made Sam feel a little guilty, and so Jolinar did not dwell on it.

“That’s always the problem, isn’t it,” Sam sighed, and looked into the flames.

“Can I?” Vala asked then.

Sam looked across the fire to her. “Can you what?”

“Be a precaution,” Vala said. “There is no point in you taking on such a risk, not when I can stay hidden by the gate and keep you informed.” She tipped her head. “At least, that would seem logical.”

“Of course it’s logical,” Sam said, with a bit of a smile. “I didn’t realize it would be possible. You would do that?”

Vala glanced down at her hands, then back to Sam. “This is the first day that these hands have been mine to use to give, not take away. I don’t want to abandon the feeling.”

“We’d never say no to help like that,” Sam said. “And you can have a radio and camouflage and everything—yes, it should go well if we have that.”

Vala just looked back into the fire and smiled to herself.  
_  
*Isn’t it always like this, the mission being exciting, and the clean-up not so much? Even this task, we had to make into a mission before it became interesting.*_

_~Well, yes, a little,~_ Sam said. _~If you know all the variables, what’s the point? That’s engineering, not science.~_

_*It is not war either,*_ Jolinar said.

They had not created the uncertain situation here, however. Risk was simply a required element. This time, it would be nice to have more certainty, no matter what happened. Going solo got tiresome after a while.

ooooooo

“What is it now?” asked Jack with resignation, as SG-1 arrived to the tune of the unauthorized incoming wormhole klaxon.

“If they knew that, it wouldn’t be unauthorized,” McKay snarked quietly.

Jack let it stand, being that Hammond was there.

“No iris code,” the technician offered. They all watched from behind the glass as the blue light prepared to emanate from the gate, even as the iris closed.

Daniel noted that Teal’c had brought his staff weapon, just before noting McKay inching closer to the control panel. If it weren’t for his need to be involved in everything, Daniel had no doubt that McKay’d be perfectly suited to controlling the stargate himself.

And then, the iris opened, and the wormhole looked naked.

“I did not give the order to open the iris,” Hammond blustered sharply at the technician.

“And I didn’t open it,” the technician answered, hands rising innocently. He swiftly brought them back down, though, pressing the keys to close the protective barrier. It barely responded before opening again.

McKay now stood directly behind the technician, as Hammond said firmly. “Get that iris closed!”

Daniel watched the wormhole, but then heard McKay all but snap at them, “Oh that’s pointless, the computer is just overriding it!”

Then Daniel stepped forward, knowing it was too late. “Um, guys?” he said, looking down at the ramp and the wormhole. “General?”

A small person had arrived through the gate, clad in simple brown and with a hood over its face. It didn’t look like anything Daniel had seen before. It didn’t move as the SFs pointed their weapons, and Hammond and SG-1 moved swiftly down to the gateroom itself.

Daniel couldn’t help after all this time to have a bad feeling about it, even knowing nothing. They stepped forward toward the extremely short person who’d forced its way onto their doorstep. Daniel noticed that Jack had his hand on his sidearm, Dixon following his lead.

They both jerked the weapons audibly as the person pulled back their hood, revealing the face of a small bald boy-child. And then, Daniel assumed, they all must have felt silly. But how...what...?

Hammond didn’t waste time. “He needs to be searched.”

“Teal’c,” said Dixon, not turning his eyes from the strange child. “That naquadah treatment you got...it would work here too, right?”

“It would indeed,” Teal’c said in a low voice. The other SFs in the room kept their distance, guns trained, as Teal’c walked forward. Daniel watched him bend closer to the child and say in a rather soft voice, “What are you called, child?”

The boy didn’t answer, nor did he shy away from Teal’c. After a moment, Teal’c stood up straight again, towering over the boy. “He is neither Goa’uld nor Jaffa, GeneralHammond.”

There was a sense of cautious embarrassment for all this fuss, especially as the boy simply stood in his surroundings, hands at his side, eyes wide and innocently blinking. But they had to know—

“What is he, then?” Dixon asked, frowning.

The boy simply opened his mouth, and said calmly, “I am here to warn you.”

Once again, Daniel’s feeling was all too accurate.


	14. Organization

_  
“Be cautious, two Jaffa came and then went,”_ Vala’s voice had come over the Tok’ra communicator.

Sam, herding the ten panicked Abydonians she’d rescued, had nodded to herself. Avoiding the road, she’d pulled them through the woods, arriving at the gate from around the back. At the sound of rustling, Vala had spun in her hiding place, gun drawn and eyes sharp. “Oh,” she’d said on seeing Sam, and then had run to the DHD to dial back.

With a slight eyebrow raise, Sam had sent the Abydonians through after Vala and had pulled up the rear. On the other side, Vala had given her a small smile, and Sam had tipped her head and responded. It had gone well.

Vala had learned surprisingly much in her few short weeks of freedom, and that day at the firing range must have been productive. A bright light shone at the back of her eyes, and she cradled the gun as a precious tool.

“Are there any more worlds to storm?” she’d asked, pushing back a hair that had come loose with a lightness that Sam and Jolinar both recognized as the high of success.

Sam had been required to answer no, but Vala just nodded. It had been enough for then.

With only a few things left, Sam and Jolinar and Vala dragged themselves back and forth to put it all into place. As Jolinar talked to the leaders of the Jaffa/Dorien alliance about Abydos, Vala counted each and every Abydonian, still scattered across several worlds. Sam had paused to wonder if they realized that she was Quetesh’s host—her bearing, clothing, everything about her was just different enough that Jolinar thought that maybe they didn’t. Especially given that she’d taken to Jolinar’s former style of slicking her hair back to a knot at the base of her neck, wearing a leather band to keep it firmly in place.

“Even before the flagship arrives, we have not found them all,” Vala said quietly, fingers fidgeting as she frowned and flicked wood chips into the fire around which they sat.

“People die in war,” Jolinar answered.

Vala looked up, brow taut. “I do not want war.”

“You will not have to see it, then,” Jolinar said. “But this is the aftermath.”

Vala rose and turned away, walking off into the evening. And Sam had known that she couldn’t follow her. You had to learn to accept loss, it didn’t come naturally. The next morning, though, Vala had been ready to be busy again, and even had a kind of cheerfulness.

The most difficult negotiation was the defense of Abydos. In the entire day and a half when there was nothing else to do but wait for the last few Abydonians from the flagship, Sam and Jolinar had found their day entirely full of arguing with the leaders of the other worlds. They’d taken their advice too well.

“We cannot spread ourselves so thin,” said Alma, a non-Abydonian woman on the Council centered at Calmah Tealc. “If those people wish to return home, we do not begrudge them it. But no more.”

“You would lose their influence then,” Jolinar protested firmly. “And remember who inspired you to this freedom. Do not curse the hands that helped you.”

“But we have barely enough to keep our own planets safe, and though that is partly due to Jaffa stubbornness, it is something we cannot negotiate further,” Alma continued, with furrowed brow and a slight bitterness in her tone.

“Abydos is one of your own planets, whether you say so or not,” Jolinar said strongly. “Believe me, a unified front will count for just as much as adequate protection. You need Abydos.”

In the end, though, Sam had to come forward and sit down, going over all the details of planetary defense. She reminded them that with ships, they could bury their gates, thus eliminating one set of dangers. As there had been plans to modify cargo ships to serve as guard towers to the gate, something Sam thought quite ingenious and something to be proud of, this revelation did add to the resources for orbiting defense.

“Abydos wouldn’t need much, given how few Goa’uld are aware of its presence. Everyone will know of Quetesh’s downfall, given the circumstances; Apophis abandoned Abydos with quiet, and so it’s relatively secure.” Sam adjusted the simulation on her handheld Tok’ra device, and showed it to Alma. The woman frowned, but had no apparent answer.

When she reported back to the Council, it took only a little further debate before all was agreed. The Abydonian leaders were brought in to sign a treaty, and Sam, Jolinar and Vala gated to the world where Quetesh’s flagship would be arriving.

ooooooo

“Well, that changes things,” said Dixon, looking at the scorched computer.

It wasn’t the first time he’d said it in the past day. It was one thing to discover that the boy wasn’t a trap, despite his iris-opening techniques. It was another when he seemed to know too much, and had told them of a faction of an alien race called the Re’tu who wanted to destroy the Goa’uld by keeping them from taking hosts. Earth was in danger again. Of course, the boy had also claimed that he knew all this because of his mother, who was both invisible and able to open the iris. They’d protested as long as they could...until “Mother” showed them her reality.

Hammond called an immediate meeting.

“Theories?” he asked SG-1, sitting sober around the table, looking at the computer that Mother had destroyed.

“Um, the alien is real?” McKay offered, raising his hand in a sarcastic imitation of insecurity.

“And that solves the Junior problem, too,” Dixon said, nodding to Teal’c. “I guess the little guy doesn’t like Re’tu.”

“So they are not totally invisible,” Teal’c said.

“Well wait just a minute there,” Jack said, raising a finger in protest. “If you know the enemy is there, but can’t tell what they’re doing, what’s the point?”

McKay frowned, then tapped the table and snapped his fingers. “They can interact in our reality, which means they’re just shifted, phasically speaking.”

“Phasically speaking,” Jack said, an eyebrow raised.

“Are we able to see into other phases?” Daniel asked curiously.

 “No,” said McKay, as if that was obvious. “Not unless we were in them ourselves, or what was in them shifted to ours. This isn’t like a different light spectrum, Daniel.”

“So we can’t just send some kind of interference, disturb their phase so they come into ours?” Dixon suggested, with a hand movement reminiscent of dragging and shaking something out of the sky.

McKay rolled his eyes—then paused. “I have no idea,” he said.

“Well, since they’re planning on destroying Earth’s stargate, which may I remind you all, happens to be where we spend most of our time,” Jack said, “I think we should know that.”

“Do we have any other defense?” Daniel asked with a frown.

“They come through the gate,” said Hammond. “We can further restrict gate travel, though our offworld teams are an unavoidable risk. Dr. McKay, I suggest you and your colleagues speak with the boy “Charlie” and his mother about how we might detect these other Re’tu.”

ooooooo

“They are almost ready to demand that the Tok’ra leave them alone,” said Martouf with a slight eyebrow raise. He had joined Sam and Jolinar and Vala for that evening’s meal off-base. “And I believe the Council can scarcely be more in line with their feelings. We have involved ourselves too deeply already.”

“Well, we’ll start the removal back to Abydos tomorrow,” Sam said. “Today was difficult enough, though.” She glanced to Vala, remembering how the woman had violently refused to approach the flagship. And given the state of the slaves who had survived being constantly under the power and whim of Quetesh, Sam sympathized.

“And after we have given all the information we have about business matters and treaties, we may wash our hands of this new civilization,” said Martouf. “I shall enjoy a rest once it is all over.”

“So it will be back to the Tok’ra base soon?” Vala asked, looking up from her meal.

“What else?” Sam asked. She assumed it was rhetoric.

“Nothing, of course,” said Vala, her smile just shaky enough around the corners to be noticeable.

Jolinar didn’t like how much shielding Vala still engaged in, and didn’t like how difficult it was to tell if she was truly interested or putting on a show so as to be left alone. But Sam reminded her, it had only been a few weeks. A few weeks after over twenty years’ captivity. They couldn’t push. And Vala did appear genuine as she offered to play checkers with Sam, as the evening grew dull. With Martouf standing over her shoulder to give her hints, some of which seemed to make her laugh and glance at Sam, she managed to clear quite the board before Sam finally won.

The next day, however, stood out strong. They’d all spent the night on Calmah Tealc, for ease’s sake, and rose in the morning to finish the mission.

All counted, Vala had reported, there were 843 Abydonians who wished to return to Abydos. This included Kasuf, Nirishi, Inchen, Creot, and many others they’d known through the entire rebellion against Quetesh. Seeing just how many influential leaders for the free peoples had been among them, Sam was glad to remember the treaty only recently signed.

As they gathered by the gate, all their belongings in hand, a few deathgliders flying ready to go through first and make the last assurance of safety, Sam and Jolinar gave them one last look-over. Many had come through with little scathing, bouncing back with the earnestness of Sha’re herself. Others clearly hid their damages, remaining quiet but insistent. And though it hurt, seeing only a few barely functional after their ordeal came as somewhat of a relief.

The sun hung high in the sky when the organization was complete, and the gate was ready to be dialed. The leadership of the Free Peoples had assembled for this, as it seemed to be an official function, and the Councilmembers of each world gave their farewells to the Abydonians.  
_  
*They have grown,*_ commented Jolinar.  
_  
~There’s something to be said about the way the galaxy does that, no matter how low a starting point you come from,~_ Sam answered proudly. _~They may fake their way through these first few months, but they have the structure to keep them intact.~  
_  
Finally, the attempt at formality came to a close, and as she had asked to do the honors, Jolinar walked up to the DHD and pressed the symbols for Abydos.

“Recall,” she called out to the first Abydonians. “Do not move quickly, and do not loiter about the gate. There is only so much time before the gate closes.”

The blue kawoosh followed her words, and then the gliders flew through with a sucking sound. After a moment, Jolinar’s communicator twinged with the buzz of their confirmation—Abydos was safe and ready to hold its people again.

Jolinar walked through the gate, and as she came out on the other side, a warm afternoon baking the golden sand past the ruins in this temple, she felt a rush of satisfaction. The Abydonians started pouring through behind her, and the noise slowly grew into a rush of excitement that bounced off the sandstone walls and reverberated out to the very sands themselves.

Though only 30 minutes passed before the people finished streaming in, Sam and Jolinar felt as if months of guilt and worry had been wiped away. Already, people had begun digging up the tents buried in the sand, and shoving aside the rubble in the temple.

“This will be our monument to all we stand for,” Nirishi told Sam, standing in the gate room and looking upward. Her lined face seemed to glow in the light of her homeworld, golden brown shadows barely visible on it, dark brown eyes glistening with proud emotion. “And as soon as our ships arrive, we will construct a coverstone once again.”

Sam smiled and nodded, swallowing a little at the remembrance of Daniel’s original plan on this planet. But though she had a few more things to check up on, Abydonian night had only barely approached before she realized that it was over. It was time to leave them in peace, mission accomplished.

She and Jolinar climbed the sand dunes back up to the temple, headed for the gateroom.

“Wait,” she heard calling from her left as she reached for the DHD. “Wait.”

She turned to see Kasuf. “What is it?” she asked, frowning.

Kasuf bowed a little to her, waiting a second to speak. “We cannot thank you enough now that we are returned,” he said. “But though it is a shame that it has taken so long to remember, the rest of our brethren are not here.”

Sam paused. It was an important observation—the SGC had moved the other Abydonians, apparently, perhaps considering this planet a danger.

“Will you help us contact them?” Kasuf asked. “My daughter—all of them.”

Sam swallowed, the thought hitting her all of a sudden. “You mean through Earth. I—” _~We promised Sha’re, we promised ourselves.~_ Jolinar had nothing to offer. “I shall look into it,” she promised.

Kasuf nodded, and Sam dialed the gate.

The thought waited at the back of her mind the rest of the day. Martouf was going over the final treaties and agreements, and she had only one hour to wait before he was ready to give his last farewell. Vala stood by her side as she watched, quietly waiting.

At last, however, Martouf approached with a small, weary smile. He nodded to Jolinar, who was at last able to dial the address for the Tok’ra homeworld. They walked through, leaving behind them the alliance of Jaffa and humans that they had helped create. They might as well have spread Quetesh’s ashes to the wind, so little of her influence remained.

And yet, Sam and Jolinar’s mind was too active to be proud. They had another concern yet.

ooooooo

Daniel hadn’t ventured down into the science area of the SGC since the briefing about Charlie and Mother. Shifu had developed a slight fever, and so Daniel’s tentative plan to relocate with his family to a hotel until the Re’tu threat was eliminated had been crushed. Janet insisted that Shifu remain under constant attention, given his young age. “Not even five months,” reminded Janet with a raise of her eyebrow.

“This time, I am assured, this place will be safe,” Sha’re said, taking her shift of watching the child who wept miserably through the headache that seemed to accompany the fever.

Daniel realized that she had correctly diagnosed the worry on his face. He nodded slowly, taking a moment to rub her back and kiss her hair. She leaned into him, comfortably warm herself, only a little tension in her back muscles. He kissed her again on the temples before leaving to find a cup of coffee, planning to make the most of the slight reprieve before it would be his turn again.

After a stop at his lab, he felt a need to make sure of all the fors and againsts that related to Sha’re’s insistence that they would be fine. Like her, he had adopted the idea, not so much because he thoroughly believed it, but because he needed to. And there was enough past evidence to make it worthwhile.

Jean Miller and Chloe Dorris had joined together in one lab, Chloe almost taking the part of Sha’re as Jean’s mind flitted along a hundred different ideas. Daniel had heard what he thought were the voices of Clare Tobias and Jay Felger, and presumably other scientists were forming odd partnerships as well as they could. But he caught sight of McKay before he’d passed Jean’s lab, and they both turned into it.

“Rodney, there you are,” said Jean, looking up with an only barely frazzled expression. She walked over in a few short steps, stretching out her hand. “Hold this.”

“Why?” McKay asked, hands stubbornly at his sides.

“I want to see if you waver,” she said. “Come on, I would hardly want to do anything to you that might put you out of commission; we’ll need you to find a solution.”

She was honest, but the form of flattery prompted McKay to hold the battery-shaped object in her hand.

Jean narrowed her eyes and looked at him. Daniel too, not sure what he was looking for.

“It tingles,” McKay said flatly.

“That’s...good,” said Jean, tapping her finger against her lip. “Hmm.”

“Why didn’t you let Dorris do it?” McKay asked, suddenly seeing the other woman.

“Oh, it has to be aligned with your DNA,” said Jean, waving her hand as she grabbed the battery thing back.

“You used my DNA?” McKay protested, following her across the lab.

Daniel felt surprised but intrigued.

“It would take too much energy to disrupt an entire section of reality,” Chloe explained, as Jean frowned over her notes. “Much harder to direct energy to a random area. We’re hoping that if it has a focus, we’ll be much more successful.”

“In doing what, exactly?” McKay asked, arms crossed.

“Hampering the frequencies that tie one to one’s own phase,” Jean said without looking up. “What were you thinking?”

“I was working on trans-phasic energy beams,” McKay said. “No success. I thought you’d be going at something similar enough to be useful; after all, you did grow up with my ideas.”

“Oh please, I was into science before you,” said Jean with a slight eyeroll.

“No, no, not now, please,” Chloe intervened before McKay could say anything. “Phase breaking, that’s our job.”

“Here, let me look at those notes,” McKay said, scooting into his sister’s desk.

Daniel was almost about to ask what Chloe thought the proximity of success was, when he heard a familiar sound behind him.

“Dan’yel,” Sha’re said, walking in with whimpering Shifu in her arms, “where did you put his fresh diaper?”

“Oh,” Daniel said, remembering. He frowned and put a hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out a white cloth.

Just then, a loud thump sounded from below them. Everyone paused. And then the SGC klaxon sounded. Not an incoming wormhole—a dangerous base presence.

“Oh god,” McKay said, frozen.

“What do we do?” Jean asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Daniel said, heart now pounding. “But try the phone.” He reached to his side for the weapon he most often carried nowadays. “I’ll get bearings.”

“And I’m locking the door behind you,” Chloe said, eyes wide but holding herself together.

Remembering that Sha’re and Shifu were now stuck there, Daniel didn’t object. He hadn’t planned to rush out like this, but something told him that he couldn’t hide, not yet.  
_  
“Daniel, do you hear?”_ Jack’s voice sounded sharp over the radio that they’d been required to wear at all times.

“Yes, what is it?” Daniel said, fumbling a little to shuffle the gun to his other hand so he could answer.  
_  
“Re’tu, through the gate as SG-9 came in. We don’t know where they’re headed, but the report is that Charlie said they’ll go for the source of power, so probably Level 25. I’m on Level 27, headed that way. But there’s a chance that they’ll head for the surface too, try to find escape routes to block, so no level’s safe.”  
_  
“I’m on Level 19, I just left McKay and Miller and Dorris locking up their lab. What do we do?”  
_  
“Take cover,”_ ordered Jack. _“They don’t have anything to help, do they?”  
_  
“Not yet,” Daniel said, heart sinking a little as he realized what that meant.  
_  
“We need to stop them here, bottleneck them if we can,”_ said Jack._ “They aren’t used to civilizations of our level, and we’re pretty well set-up for defense. We may even have a couple days, depending on their fighting style. Get back to them, I’ll tell Hammond, and for god’s sake just keep at it.”_

Daniel could only nod, and put the radio back in its holder. He’d walked halfway across the level, and turned to go back. Apart from the alarm, he didn’t hear any noise. The rest of the labs must have gotten in touch, given how all the doors were now locked.

The Re’tu had breached the SGC, and apart from Teal’c and Charlie’s Mother, they had nothing at their hands to affect the situation. Sitting ducks, Daniel thought, as he got back to the right lab. He grabbed his keycard, about to slide it in, when a shot sounded behind him.

He spun around, holding his gun. “Guys,” he called through the door.

“Daniel?” he heard McKay, muffled through the door. “Something in here’s affecting the radios.”

The corridor was empty.

“We’re pretty screwed,” called Daniel, as he waved his gun back and forth, not sure if he should open the door yet. “The Re’tu broke through.”

Then another shot flamed at the wall close to his head, and he ducked, swearing under his breath. He could almost think he saw something, but a clamoring noise from the other end of the level, the sound of footsteps and slamming doors, distracted him in a moment. Then he saw a flash of something, and felt a force push against his chest.

Daniel slammed back against the door, head cracking against it, as something pushed the air out of his lungs. He crumpled to the floor, a groan escaping. The back of his head started to throb.

“Daniel?” he heard McKay again.

But he barely had enough time to bring his hand up to the back of his head, as the noise down the corridor grew, and actual gunshots were fired. His hand came back bloody, and the world went dark before he could sense anything else.


	15. Conflicts

Even with the nagging question of the Abydonians, Sam and Jolinar joined with Martouf and Lantash for the first part of their Tok’ra briefing, listening and then offering more information. It became clear just how much the Tok’ra Council had agreed to this out of necessity; unlike any number of other possible alliances, the Free Peoples had both reason and experience to battle the Goa’uld directly. Had the Tok’ra not stepped in, their entire plan might have been dissolved by a random attack.

Now that things were as settled as they could be, the Council seemed to just nod and prepare to forget about it and move on. They’d lost the services of two operatives on this mission, not to mention resources and time and secure information.

Once Martouf had finished his story, the Council approved and dismissed him. Sam and Jolinar, however, were asked to stay.

“Given that your part in this effort was not exhausting, in the end,” Garshaw offered, “the Council would like to offer you a mission that, though coming soon, we think you would be best to handle.”

The statement hung in the air for a minute.

“What?” asked Sam, astonished.

“Your next mission, should you choose to accept it,” Garshaw repeated, a slight wrinkle in her brow at Sam’s reaction.  
_  
~Wait, aren’t we—weren’t we—~_

_*They, like us, forgot, or so it seems.*  
_  
“Actually,” Sam said aloud, slowly, “we need at least a day to judge our readiness for...anything.”

Garshaw nodded. “Then you may be dismissed until then; return once you are prepared.”

Sam turned and walked out of the horseshoe-shaped Council room, feeling confused and a little shocked. _~This is it, isn’t it? We actually finished our mission.~_

_*And if we forgot that it was supposed to be our last, is it any surprise that so did they?*_

_~I wasn’t even thinking about it ending, not really. But now what?~_

They’d barely gone more than a few paces when Vala approached them, face looking earnest in the soft tunnel light.

“What is it?” asked Sam, with trouble drawing her mind from the surprise of the briefing.

“Can we talk?” Vala asked, bending her hands rather awkwardly as if she couldn’t keep them still.

“Of course,” Sam said, managing a smile and indicating the nearest bench.

Vala sat in a hurry, turning a little to face them. She tried an awkward smile. “Now that things are quiet,” she said, unable to know that for them it was not, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You’ve never been clear on that.”

“Uh, well, we never had anything,” Sam said, with a slight apologetic grimace. Jolinar felt even more that their planning had left out a lot of details in a lot of different areas.

“No, I could guess that,” Vala said, barely rolling her eyes, though just in obviousness not in derision. “But I remember—I remember you said that you had a friend like me.”

“Sha’re?” asked Sam, blinking a little.

Vala shrugged hesitantly. “But it’s true?”

“Yeah, yes, it is,” Sam said as she settled a little more into her seated position, thinking.

“Where is she now?” asked Vala, and held Sam’s gaze.

“Back on Earth with her family—my homeworld,” Sam amended.

“Your people would accept her?” Vala asked.

“Oh, that’s not the problem,” Sam said, with a slight chuckle that almost reached bitterness. She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. “That’s all they’re concerned about, saving hosts. They kept trying to save me.”

Vala frowned but said nothing about that. She looked up at Sam. “Can you take me there? Anywhere away from...naquadah...and strange judgments.” She laughed awkwardly. “Nothing against you, Samantha, I just need that.”

Sam swallowed the lump suddenly rising in her throat as Earth was once again brought to the forefront of her mind. “I was just thinking about that,” she said quietly. Jolinar felt hesitant, not sure where Sam was going. “I’ll get back to you,” she finally said, looking at Vala.

“Thank you,” Vala said in a short, quiet voice. She flashed a tight smile, then rose and walked off, leaving Sam and Jolinar alone again.

Sam didn’t move from the bench. She leaned over, resting her face in her hands. _~Oh god, I wasn’t ready for all this.~  
_  
ooooooo

“Dan’yel? Dan’yel?”

The words pierced through Daniel’s hearing, and he would have winced if he had the strength, so sharp did they hurt.

“I can’t get this idiotic system working—why is it not digital, for god’s sake?”

“We know what we have to know, Rodney, give it a rest! We need to work on a solution.”

“For what?”

“Don’t yell like that! We’ll have something—just focus.”

Daniel groaned as the voices drove into his head, giving him no rest, and yet clearing his mind of the heavy fog around it.

“Dan’yel?” He was aware enough to recognize that voice, as he’d recognize it anywhere. “Oh, Dan’yel, are you awake?”

Daniel couldn’t remember why he had lost consciousness, just that the last thing he knew, he was standing in a hall and hearing that the Re’tu were invading. “Mm,” he managed, trying to open his eyes.

A soft hand touched his face. “Dan’yel, hold still and relax. You are wounded.”

“Really?” he managed to get out. He didn’t want to move his limbs.

“Oh, he’s awake!” He recognized the panicky voice from earlier as McKay’s.

Finally, Daniel blinked his eyes open, and the bright light only hurt slightly less than the sharp voices. He lay on the floor of the lab, propped against a wall. McKay and Jean stood by their lab table still, as Chloe held Shifu. Sha’re knelt next to him, worry contorting her face.

“What happened?” he murmured.

“You were thrown against the wall, and we heard and came out to get you,” Sha’re said.

“You’ve at least got a concussion,” McKay said, looking apologetic. He walked over a few steps, wringing his hands a little, then snapping his fingers as he turned back to Jean. “Wait—wait—I think I got something.”

“Your head was bleeding, but we stopped it,” Sha’re said, still focused on Daniel. “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

“My elbow feels swollen,” said Daniel, grimacing as he tried to get past the headache to focus on the rest of himself. “But I think I’m intact. Any news?”

Sha’re shook her head. “None. Communication is down in here, but it’s probably just static.”

“Well, I can’t go anywhere, I guess,” Daniel said, frowning. “What are we going to do?”

“Rodney?” Sha’re said, looking to the scientists over at the lab table.

“Hmm?” McKay asked, looking up?

“We need a plan,” Sha’re said. “There is no point in all of us staying in here until you and Jean have a plan.”

“Yes, but what can we do?” asked Jean, pushing her blonde curls out of her face.

“Look, I should go find O’Neill or Dixon or someone,” McKay said, gritting his teeth. “I’m on SG-1, I sort of have a responsibility.”

“No, no,” Sha’re protested, standing up and shaking her head. “You are no good at fighting, Rodney, and do not protest because even if you were, you are much more useful in here. You need to work with Jean, find out how we can see our enemy.”

“She’s got a big point, Rodney,” Jean said.

Daniel had to nod, too, and McKay didn’t seem to object much.

“But you are right, we need to contact the rest of the base,” said Sha’re, crossing her arms for a second.

“It’s just like that training day,” said Chloe suddenly, rocking Shifu in her arms. “The first thing we need to do is shut down the gate, if it hasn’t been done already.”

“Of course,” said Sha’re, nodding. “Here.” She took Shifu and walked back over to Daniel. “Dan’yel, you cannot move from here, but hold Shifu. Rodney or Jean can help you if you need it.”

“Why?” Daniel asked, confused as he accepted Shifu into his good arm. Thankfully his son was only passively whimpering, not full-out screaming.

Sha’re took out a pin to pull her hair back fully from her face as she knelt by his side. Then she grabbed the sidearm from his belt, and the keycard from his pocket. “Chloe and I will go make contact with our people,” she said, mouth in a small tight line. “And defend our home, if necessary.”

 “Or take out the power, maybe,” Chloe offered, standing close. “Wait—we’re going out there?” Her voice rose in pitch a little.

Daniel frowned, but Sha’re had already stood up and walked back over to the lab table, slipping Daniel’s gun into her waistband. “Rodney, Chloe will need your weapon, please.”

“Are you sure about this?” Jean asked, frowning. McKay just stood, looking a bit in shock.

Daniel frowned, but even with his head throbbing, this reminded him too much of that first couple days on Abydos to worry him. Especially after all that had happened.

“Well, we are trained for this,” Chloe said, but her voice trembled and her hand wavered as she took Rodney’s gun.

“There is nothing else to do,” Sha’re said. She nodded to Chloe. “You will not need your lab coat.”

Chloe slipped out of the white coat, and then, in only their green BDU pants and black shirts, they checked their weapons for ammo.

“You have radios, right?” Jean asked. “In case we get this fixed?”

Chloe nodded, biting her lip. Sha’re put a hand on her shoulder, then glanced back at Jean. “We are ready. Work hard, please.”

And with that, she listened at the door for a few seconds, then opened it and, leading with her gun, walked out into the hallway. Chloe followed a few steps behind, and then the door shut and locked again.

“God, I hope they’re okay,” Jean said, frowning.

 “Well, we can help with that if we get a move on,” McKay said, and turned back to the lab table, pushing aside a few papers.

Daniel still sat propped against the wall, feeling a little more alert with every minute. He looked down at his son in his arms, tired and sick, and hoped that Sha’re could help with this whole mess.

ooooooo

Jolinar had not expected Sam’s emotions to be so confused, and she took the moment of indecision to remove back to their quarters.

Sam felt like something was wrong, given the lump of panic that seemed to form as soon as a return to Earth was mentioned. It didn’t die down quickly, though, and she worried. _~All this time, we knew the mission was ending, but why didn’t I make the connection?~_

_*Very likely because of this fear you feel now,*_ Jolinar answered, trying to maintain a sense of emotional stability, even though her own feelings threatened to match Sam’s, or at least be influenced by them.  
_  
~But when did I start—why did I—did you have any idea?~_

_*I have only felt what you felt; I didn’t even think that your thoughts had grown very far from your old home.*  
_  
In the dark and quiet of their chamber, Sam felt her mind starting to pick at the confusing emotional pieces. _~Okay, so it wasn’t just a surprise to me; everyone failed to assume that I’d try to go back now. Now that I have evidence that they would accept, all amends made. Which is my fault, but I didn’t expect it to just happen. I’m actually afraid to go back to Earth.~_

_*I am sorry,*_ Jolinar said, feeling a sort of aching that she didn’t completely identify.  
_  
~I don’t think there’s a reason to be sorry,~_ Sam admitted. Back in control, she sat on their bed, knees brought up and hands resting gently on them. _~Not for us, at least. I mean, I think I just realized, I don’t think I really can gain back their trust. Even with the Abydonians to vouch for all that we’ve done, even after these months of Sha’re telling them her story. Maybe it’s more my issue than theirs; maybe I can’t get over the fact that they believed a Daniel from a different universe but they couldn’t believe me.~  
_  
She swallowed, the fear curling in her stomach not lessening, even as she started cataloguing it. _~And if I went back, I don’t think I’d ever believe that they assumed things were okay. Any breakthrough I made, any advice I had to offer—they might think it suspect, given that I was compromised. And they might not say it, so I’d never know whether to feel secure. It could be paranoid, I don’t know, but of all the things in my life I want to be trusted.~_

Jolinar’s emotions and thoughts were strangely restrained, but at that she let loose a wave of sympathy.  
_  
~I don’t know why I’m talking so much,~_ Sam sighed, but she let herself absorb Jolinar’s sympathy. _~I just don’t think I can go back. And after everything...I can’t resent the fact.~_

The thought wasn’t comfortable to her. And though Jolinar wasn’t pushing, she knew that she’d have to follow it to the next step. She’d repressed so much, she was frightened of herself, and bringing it all out. Even though something small within her told her that it would only bring her a feeling of freedom. For a moment, she held on to the repression.

ooooooo

Jack had no time for thinking as he stood, cornered on Level 26, Re’tu somewhere around the corner and ready to fire at him. He needed to get the power shut down. He needed to kill the Re’tu. He needed this to be a bad nightmare.

One of his men was already down, just wounded but sitting now behind the corner with him. Jack gritted his teeth and prepared to fire around again. It would help if he knew that his shots would make it, but oh well.

Where was the rest of the base, though? Hadn’t they all been told now? The idea that other Re’tu might be in other areas did occur to him, just not as quickly as the idea that they could have at least called in.

The corner provided only the barest protection as he aimed some random shots—he thought he saw one ricochet off of thin air, but had to withdraw his head as the energy blast hit the wall across from him.

“Am I not dead yet?” Lieutenant Roberts asked him, sounding vaguely groggy as he clutched the wound in his shoulder.

“You and me both,” Jack said sharply through his teeth. “Hell’s great, isn’t it?” He decided to bite the bullet and grabbed for his radio. “General? What the hell’s going on, and why isn’t there radio chatter?”  
_  
“We’re a bit busy, damn it,” _came Dixon’s voice over the radio, before Hammond’s.  
_  
“More Re’tu holding the upper levels,”_ came in Makepeace’s next. “_Not that it matters, right?”  
_  
Okay, okay, so there wasn’t a point in them all radioing in, unless things changed. What were the Re’tu here to do, exactly, apart from the ambiguous “sabotage” that Mother had mentioned?

He heard steps down the hall behind him, human steps. Without moving his gun, he spun his head in that direction, and was surprised to see two guns peek around the corner.

Oh god, of all the reinforcements, I get the idiots, he thought. Then he saw a dark-haired head poke around, and before he could realize it, Sha’re Jackson and one of the scientists dashed around towards them. Clad in BDUs, they looked as much like soldiers as anything he’d seen—and that was a specially weird look on Sha’re.

“Oh Jack,” she said, eyes lit up even with her face serious, as she joined them at the corner. “I am so glad to have found you.”

“Where’s Daniel?” he asked, confused. He glanced back around the corner, listening just in case.

“Injured by an invader,” Sha’re said, and he noticed she was breathing a little hard. “Chloe and I needed to see what was happening—our communications failed to work.”

“Damn it,” Jack muttered under his breath. He didn’t need this distraction.

“Has the gate been shut down?” Chloe asked, eyes wide in her round face.

“No, that’s the problem,” Jack answered, leaning against the wall. “Roberts here,” he nudged the wounded soldier at his feet, “got himself shot, and that one Re’tu can hold me off.”

“What are they doing?” Sha’re asked, frowning.

“Who knows, exactly?” Jack answered.

“Well, we can help at least,” she continued, looking Jack in the eye with determination he found surprising.

“Er?” he answered.

“You’re not serious,” Chloe protested in a low voice, looking at Sha’re with a slightly gaped jaw.

“We need to shut that power down,” Sha’re insisted, looking back at her odd-couple partner. They didn’t cling to the wall like they were hiding, something that impressed Jack for a second.

“Yes,” he said, “but there’s a bit of an impasse here.”

“Let us help you distract the Re’tu,” said Sha’re, facing him squarely. “It cannot shoot at all of us.”

“You’re insane,” Roberts said, looking up at the three of them. “It’ll kill you!”

“You’re not soldiers,” Jack said, brow wrinkled.

“We don’t need to be,” Sha’re said pointedly. “And Chloe can shut down the power, she has done it before. You will hold this position, and we will get past.”

“No, you’ll get killed, and then Daniel will kill me,” Jack protested, not liking how the desperation in him was starting to make this idea sound good. It hadn’t been that long, but they were at such a disadvantage, it felt like they were rapidly running out of time.

“Dan’yel is not here, and so he does not matter,” Sha’re said flatly. “Come Chloe, make sure your weapon is armed.”

The two women looked away from Jack, and so he swore under his breath and prepared to give cover fire. In the wide SGC corridors, maybe they would have a chance. He didn’t know. Both women were small and lithe, so at least they’d have a better chance of dodging than Jack.

Grinding his jaw tight, Jack held his weapon, counted to three, and turned sharply around the corner. Sha’re and Chloe darted past him as he opened fire, and they ducked beneath it, charging straight down the corridor as they hugged the wall. Jack had a flash of adrenaline as a Re’tu blast came from nowhere to swipe by his ear, but only one—it seemed to be distracted.

“Take that, bastard!” Jack snarled, pumping his weapon into the area where the Re’tu seemed to be.

Then, just as Sha’re and Chloe seemed to get past, and around the next corner—he ducked back into his own hiding. They were on their own now, and god, he felt a bit of after-the-fact horror at sending them into it. What kind of leader was he?”  
_  
“Colonel O’Neill,”_ came Hammond’s voice over his radio.

“Yes, sir!” he answered neatly, grabbing at any distraction.  
_  
“Any luck?”  
_  
“Not sure, sir, they seem very resilient,” Jack admitted.  
_  
“We finally had contact from our top scientists, and they’re stuck on the problem. They might have a solution, but they don’t have all the equipment necessary.”_

“Damn,” Jack said, but not in his radio. “What then?” he asked.  
_  
“It may be our chance of stopping the Re’tu,”_ Hammond said. _“But not only is it untested, but we would have to hamper our defense positions to gather the things that they need.”_

Which meant that it might be useless, or worse, and definitely time-consuming.

“The Re’tu aren’t doing anything particular yet, that we can see, right?” Jack asked.

Just then, though, he heard a loud winding down of something. The lights flickered.

“They did it,” Roberts said, surprised. “They shut down the gate.”

But Jack focused on something else, and that was the scurrying sound he heard round the corner. The Re’tu hadn’t liked that, and this one was on the move. But the scurrying was headed away, and this time Jack moved around the corner for good, firing into what looked like nothingness ahead. The bullets fell clinking harmlessly to the floor.

“Sir, the gate’s down, but the Re’tu from my position has gone up towards Level 24,” he reported.  
_  
“Affirmative,”_ Hammond answered.  
_  
“And holy crap, we’ve got movement up here, headed up levels,”_ Makepeace’s voice staticked across the airwaves.  
_  
“They’re heading for an exit,”_ Dixon’s flat voice came next, and Jack knew it was true the moment he said it.

“Why?” he asked sharply, as he darted down to make sure that Sha’re and Chloe were accounted for.

Just at that moment, though, he heard muffled explosions, more than one, and the whole base seemed to shake. He put a hand out, and leaned against the wall, heart starting to pound as if trying to escape from his chest. The lights flickered, went out, and in the darkness he heard deep cracks and groans and another muffled explosion.

Jack could have sworn a thousand times to himself. The Re’tu had sabotaged the base, and now needed a way out. Holy shit, the SGC was sabotaged. Before the emergency lighting kicked in, all Jack could consider was just how screwed they were.


	16. Options

Jean gave a squeak of surprise as the lights went down and the room around them shook violently. She gripped the table, grappling for the delicate equipment, as Rodney all but dove for cover.

Daniel’s heart clenched as he held Shifu closer. The babe gave a single high pitched cry when it all went dark, and squirmed to turn towards Daniel’s chest.

“Holy crap, we’re all dead,” McKay said in a breathless but doomed voice.

“They did it, right, they got through our defenses?” Jean asked tightly, as the loud boom faded and left only dull metal creaks. “Now what?”

Some long dark seconds went by before a flicker of low light came, and the emergency generators started to hum. Daniel tried to breathe slowly, for his sake as well as Shifu’s, but this was the very definition of worst case scenario.

“They wanted to take out our headquarters, then get up to an escape route,” he said aloud, looking over to the two scientists. Head still throbbing, he could at least think, even if it wasn’t seeming good. “They aren’t going to go back through the gate, but they don’t plan on dying yet either.”

“So we’re going to keep them trapped here until we can kill them?” McKay asked, astounded.

“Trapping ourselves in the angry tiger cage while we dash around looking for the tranquilizer dart we know is in there somewhere,” Jean said, sighing and leaning over the table.

The building around them shook again, and McKay’s eyes darted back and forth. “We are all so stuck,” he said, voice panicky and eyes wide.

Daniel’s heart pounded as it dawned on him just how close Earth was to being attacked by invisible aliens who wanted them all dead. And he couldn’t move. The need to protect had never been so strong in him, and he could do nothing.

“Rodney, stop it,” Jean protested, voice shaking a little.

Trying to take deep breaths, McKay almost darted across the room. “Phone’s down,” he said, hanging up the receiver he’d just grabbed.  
_  
“All teams please report in,”_ came Hammond’s voice over their radio.

But Daniel knew what the answer to their report would be. Keep working on a solution. As McKay reached for his radio, Jean had already started straightening the mess on the worktable. They still needed other pieces to make this work, if it would. But it had to, if they were to make it through this intact.

“You may have to take it to the parts, instead of the other way around,” he said, as the idea dawned darkly on him.

She glanced up, confused for a second, then realizing what he meant. “That’s manageable,” she said with a sigh, then got to work. “But what about you?”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Daniel said, closing his eyes and hoping he’d hear an update from Sha’re. This was not the way he planned to go out, but there might not be a choice in the end.

ooooooo

Jacob, Selmak, they would help, Sam had decided. She was getting a grip on this situation, but something told her that it shouldn’t be her alone. She took the walk to their quarters slowly, though, still speaking with Jolinar. As she laid out her predicament, something had popped into her mind that she needed to explain and confess.  
_  
~I think...I think, Jolinar, that I may have fallen in love with Martouf and Lantash.~_

_*Was I not supposed to notice, or were you expecting a comment on it earlier?* _Jolinar said, and her surprise was plain, not for Sam’s declaration but for her belief that it had to be stated.

Sam colored sharply at that, realizing just how far she had let it go._ ~I didn’t mean for it to happen,~_ she said quickly.  
_  
*Oh,*_ said Jolinar, catching quickly onto the subject. The fact that Sam had kept it as private as she could had left some of the details out._ *I am sorry, then, I just assumed that you were aware and—I did not think it through.*_ Sam caught the unspoken words, that it was something that blending influenced.  
_  
~No, you don’t need to apologize,~_ Sam came back quickly, walking a little faster as she wished Jolinar would stop her flush of awkwardness. _~I guess I just, after a while, unconsciously maybe—I guess I just assumed that nothing was going to change. I let myself relax, reach out.~_

She stood almost at Jacob and Selmak’s quarters, with those words hanging in the air. Jolinar was hesitant, trying to read which words went with which emotion in Sam’s mind._  *What does that mean for you?*  
_  
Sam swallowed and approached the doorway, deciding not to give an answer at that moment. Jacob was in control, and beckoned them in as he stood up and approached to give a hug.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his smile hesitating for a second at the sight of her face.

“Probably not, I don’t know,” Sam said. “Can we sit and talk for a while?”

“Well of course not, can’t you tell that we are in the middle of something very important?” Jacob teased, indicating the near-empty room.

Sam managed a half smile as she took a seat. “We’re a bit confused.”

“I would never have been able to guess,” Jacob said, looking her straight in the eye with warm humor, and the weight of loving concern behind it.

Sam let her hands clasp in her lap to keep them from flailing about, and Jolinar wasn’t offering her anything to start with. She’d have to address her thoughts again, be open. This was so important, she couldn’t even begin to start without hesitation.

“The Council wants us to go on another mission,” Sam started, looking her father squarely in the eye and letting the words hang.

“And?” he prompted, face neutral.

Sam’s brow creased a little. “And, we hadn’t planned on that.” Jolinar was trying not to bring back those memories, even as Sam also managed to focus on the present. But there was so much history, and she wasn’t sure if Sam wanted to remember it.

Sam didn’t see understanding in his face until something changed, and Selmak came forward. Then, the dawning seemed potent. “Now I remember,” Selmak said in a low voice. “This is problematic, I see.”

“I thought I’d be going home now,” Sam admitted, leaning forward on her knees. Jolinar didn’t exactly flinch at that, but something struck her wrong. The wording, maybe—but analysis wasn’t her strong suit. Sam continued, trying to express her thoughts, because surely she needed this. “It was always just temporary, until the mission was done. Now it is, and I don’t know what to do.”

“You still wish to go home?” Selmak said, and when Sam nodded he answered with another nod. “But you don’t think you can?”

At this, Sam had to bite her lip, shake her head a little. Jolinar felt something uncomfortable rising and started trying to block herself off, but Sam didn’t want that. “That’s the problem,” she said aloud. “I’m not sure I want it that much. And—and I don’t understand why not. How can I just think about giving up all my friends, my work, my culture? Have I become such a coward?”

Selmak’s eyes seemed piercingly perceptive, and Sam saw no confusion on his face. “You consider staying with Jolinar an option, even though it was not the original plan.”

It wasn’t to spare Jolinar’s feelings that Sam answered quickly, “Yes.”

A moment of silence hung as the weight of that impressed itself on them. What it actually meant, though, Sam still didn’t know. It seemed all just out of reach, just like Jolinar was now trying to be. She couldn’t help with this, and after all this time, that seemed new and uncomfortable to both her and Sam.

“Let me tell you something, Sam,” Jacob said, as Selmak retired for a few seconds. He leaned over, putting a hand on Sam’s clasped ones. “Kid, this conversation shocked me more than it should have. Since Selmak and I got together, I think I kind of assumed that you and I were staying like this. At least, it wouldn’t have been a surprise to me if you had come out and said that.”

“I know, I think I kind of felt that too,” Sam admitted, smiling wryly.

“Well, don’t dismiss that,” Jacob answered, nodding and looking her deep in the eyes. “You were comfortable, content, with things as they were. Think carefully before you decide that you want something else.”

Sam’s fear started to rise a little, even as Jolinar quietly listened. “But Earth.”

“You don’t have to forsake it altogether, it’s not entirely either/or,” Jacob said, with a slight nudge of his head. “Maybe you can go back, no matter whether it’s to stay or not. That’s diplomacy, it can be handled at any time. You could have both worlds, if it works out well. But where do you think you want to belong?”

Sam sat for a second, not sure what to make of it. Maybe he was right, maybe she could find a way to go back to Earth for a visit, or two, or more. Maybe if they would just trust her enough, she could see them, satisfy her longing. But she had thought she needed that atmosphere, the science and the military of her home-world. So young, so fresh, so energizing. She had thought. Now? Now, as she considered it at last, she realized that it would involve leaving Jolinar.

And that meant finding a new host. As Sam remembered their search, remembered all the faces they’d seen, she felt a sudden distrust and worry. How could she let anyone like that be so close to her Jolinar? How could she condemn Jolinar to that?  
_  
*I would survive,*_ Jolinar protested, even if it came flatly, as if trying to hide some other emotion.

But at that moment, Sam realized that she would feel jealous, and concerned that her replacement couldn’t understand. And hurt that Jolinar might just forget her. Sam knew then that she couldn’t forget Jolinar. She didn’t want to. She was too protective, too attached, too close. She loved her too much now, more than any idea of Earth.  
_  
~Why does that scare me?~ _she asked in her mind.

ooooooo  
_  
“We’ve lost structural integrity on levels 11, 15, and 23,”_ Hammond’s voice summarized after all the messages had come in.

Jack sighed and looked around what he could see in the emergency lighting. He wouldn’t say for sure, but Level 25 didn’t look so hot either. Any moment he expected the walls to buckle, and the reddish lighting just made the smoke from the bombs cloud his vision.

“O’Neill?” Sha’re’s voice came to him from down the hall, from the generator room.

“Yeah,” he managed, stretching a little from the tension of holding still as the explosions boomed around him. It was too much like war, not something he wanted here. “All fine here.”

“So are we, we think,” Sha’re said, coming out of the shadows towards him, Dorris following.

“Something fell off the generator and hit my head, but I’ll be fine,” the scientist said, and even though her voice was high and wispy, Jack’s eyebrow raised a little. No toothpick this one, she had gumption. That was all he was looking for at this point.

“We’ve got a foothold situation,” Jack said, drawing his mind back to the crisis, his brows tightening together. Shaking his head a little, the two women became soldiers in his mind. “They’re going to try to take out the rest of Earth if they can get there, but they’re not going to. Now, we’re way down here, and main way’s probably blocked, but there are ways around, got it?”

“Will we have time?” Dorris asked, eyes wide in the near-dark.

“There’s no timetable that we know of yet,” Jack said, jaw tightening. “They’re bugs, they may not even have watches. For all we know, we could have a long-term situation on our hands. All that matters is Earth safety. I like this planet, and don’t want these Reeses pieces getting their invisible hands on it. The only invisibility I’m interested in is from the Fantastic Four, got it?”

“Possibly,” Sha’re said, slightly confused by his references, but shaking it off in a Teal’c fashion.

Chloe Dorris nodded.

Jack got ready to go back for Roberts, and grab what weaponry they could. “Come on, let’s move. Be quiet and be ready to shoot.”

He felt weary as he marched off to war again, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to stick it out to the end—theirs or his. He’d request that it be theirs, at every chance he got. With some nice bullet signatures.

ooooooo

After taking a break to eat with Jacob and Selmak, playing a quiet chess game to ease their minds, Sam and Jolinar both knew that they couldn’t sleep that night until something had been decided.

Sam felt weariness in her body, and took her time to fully savor each sensation of the hot bath they took. Focusing on the soft smells, the ripple of the water on her skin, the pleasure-almost-pain of the heat that flushed her skin, it didn’t seem so daunting.

Slipping into the green silk robe that Jolinar had picked out before, she twisted her wet hair out of the way and made the walk back to their chamber. She sat on their bed, feeling soothed and comfortable and peaceful. Her heart’s pace jumped just a little, though, as she noticed how deliberately quiet Jolinar was being. They had both done it all day, but Jolinar more than Sam. Sam had the feeling that she was trying to spare Sam the emotional impact.

Sam’s weren’t much different, she thought, but they were less deep and more fleeting. And she had to address them now, if she wanted to sleep without tossing and turning. Letting Jolinar take control after she leaned back against the headboard, closing her eyes to the near-dark of their crystal chamber, she let her mind unfurl further.  
_  
*This habit of yours, to dissect every situation and explain it to yourself,* _Jolinar said quietly, absently arranging the blanket on the bed as Sam prepared to think deeply._ *It is more comforting than irritating now. I thought you should know that, before you add yet another bit of guilt to what is on your plate.*_

Sam paused for a moment of separate reflection, noting how controlled Jolinar was, wondering what her reaction would be and whether surety had her behaving as if she was already at peace. But then, they were both tired, and none of this was new.  
_  
~Well, Jolinar, I think I should first say that I think I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been to anybody,~_ she said in louder thoughts. _~My surprise is a bit ironic, seeing how we’ve been literally in each other’s heads for the better part of a year now. Seven months now, god! I don’t think I have a problem saying that I’m bonded to you now. That part’s easy; not that you are, to live with I mean, but it’s not about that in the end. I didn’t think it would happen, but all the crap we’ve been through has been a kind of refining fire, I think.~_

Jolinar nodded slowly, looking at the crystal pattern on the far wall. _*And I have been glad to build this bond with you, even if the circumstances have been unfortunate.*_

_~I’m—I’m not used to thinking in these terms,~_ Sam said next, not as smoothly. But she was trying to keep her calm and not get too emotional, and it was mostly working. _~But if I can’t think of how I’d live without you here, I think my only option is to...stay. Forever, or however long I’ll live with you.~_

This time, it was Jolinar’s impulse that had their heart racing. _*You are sure of these feelings?*  
_  
Sam sighed to herself. _~Yes, I can’t interpret it any other way.~_ Even though it seemed anticlimactic compared to the traumatic beginning—a kind of settling, however willing.

Yet for all that they had been holding back, trying to stay objective, Jolinar’s emotions rushed out then in a tidal flow of relief and love. Sam could have laughed, it was so strong, burying her in its power—laughed, not smiled, because this was Jolinar. And when part of you is so affected, what else is there to laugh at your own absurdity, in a sense? Acknowledging what they’d both known for weeks felt sweet and warm, something to curl against and revel in the security.

Jolinar brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, closing her eyes and exhaling as she and Sam found their first moment where they truly admitted what they were. Two beings inhabiting one body, to souls bonded together by more than just physical reality. It was a kind of love that friends strove to reach, but almost never could—and it felt like pure joy

Sam let herself drown in it for a few seconds, her emotions feeding into physical feelings. It had her feeling more and more drowsy as she couldn’t help but smile, feeling Jolinar with her the way it was supposed to be from the beginning. _~Okay, that should be enough for tonight,~ _she said, tone quiet and humorous.

Jolinar felt the urge to yawn and then gave one of the few real smiles Sam had ever witnessed. _*Let us not even think of what else is left, then,*_ she said, sinking back into the pillow. She closed her eyes for a second, then slipped out of the robe and under the blankets.  
_  
~What do I call you?~_ Sam mused tiredly, as the familiarity of the trappings of sleep reached for her. _~You’re not just a friend, you’re not like a spouse, not a sibling either...symbiote doesn’t cover it.~_

_*We are Tok’ra,* _Jolinar answered even as it all started to go pleasantly dark. _*You are my Tok’ra, I am yours, if you care to see it like that.*  
_  
Sam just hmmed one last time to herself before they fell asleep. It wasn’t over, but she was happy with what they’d done so far.

ooooooo

Jack could hear the gunshots above him as he tried to squeeze through the entrance to Level 23. They’d gotten turned out of their way on Level 24, going towards the wrong entrance first and then meeting up with someone leaving Level 23.

“There’s no point, it’s all blocked going up,” the lieutenant had said, looking panicked and grungy.

“That’s not an option, Lt.,” Jack said sharply back at him.

“There are four of us, surely we can make a way,” Sha’re said, as a heavy sound seemed to shake above. Hammond had ordered radio silence in case of emergency or extreme situation change. All they knew was that it was all about keeping the defense status quo until the scientists reported in.

“It’ll take hours,” Lieutenant Gorman protested.

“We’ve got hours,” Jack growled at him, pushing at his shoulder and starting to press forward. And it was true—until the Re’tu got out, they would be running in circles until someone died.

ooooooo

“This is it, this is our only option,” Jean said finally, hours into the night. Only a few moments before she’d had to shake Daniel awake, and lost a few minutes worrying that he needed to see a doctor. But McKay had called her back, and she managed to make him disappear with their device. Only for a few seconds, but it was something.

“Except we can’t get DNA from every Re’tu attacking this base, even assuming it works with them,” McKay answered back, wearily. “It’s idiotic.”

“People are dying, Rodney,” Jean snapped, slamming her hand down on the table.

 “I know that,” he shot back with heat.

Daniel’s heart clenched; he hadn’t heard the news of any deaths, but it would have been inevitable. Thank god that Shifu had fallen asleep, sniffling through his dreams, and Daniel could focus his worry.

“You know what we’re going to do?” Jean said, grabbing her equipment in her hands.

“No, no, you can’t,” McKay said, darting around the table to her side as he apparently seemed to understand. “They’re still in quarantine on Level 16, you’ll never get there.”

“Mother is the only Re’tu on our side, and she’s willing to help. If this will work at all, it has to work like that,” Jean insisted.

 “How are you going to get there?” demanded McKay.

“At the moment, I’m considering using you as bait,” Jean snorted. “Rodney, don’t just dismiss it because it’s a long shot.”

“If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to come back here, and assuming we survive it just means that the Re’tu might know what we’re up to,” McKay argued, pointing his finger straight at her face.

“Yes, it’s called trial and error,” Jean said.

“Are you ready for the error?” McKay asked.

Jean just nodded quietly, dark circles appearing prominent on her eyes. McKay seemed to swallow, and then grabbed more equipment from the table, not even muttering under his breath.

“You don’t have weapons,” Daniel offered. “There’s an armory a few halls down.”

 “Right, thanks, Jackson,” McKay said, finding a bag for their equipment.

Even with the rest, Daniel was still feeling as if part of him was out of all of it, his head still hazy. “Good luck,” was all he could offer.

They closed the door behind them, and left him alone with his son. The world spun again, and all he could do was focus on staying awake. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t know.

ooooooo

“It’s hot,” Chloe informed as she jerked her hands back from the fallen girder blocking them from maneuvering over the damage in this section.

“Shit,” Jack muttered.

“What kind of explosives did they use?” Gorman asked frustratedly.

There was a fumbling sound, and they all snapped to attention, reaching for weapons. Not a Re’tu, though, just settling rubble a few feet off.

“We’ve got to get through this,” Jack said darkly. “Strip your BDUs, use the jackets to get through.”

“All the fighting’s going to be up near the top, near escape routes,” Gorman said under his breath as they strained at the girder.

“And we’ll get there, eventually,” Jack said.

“What about food?” Sha’re asked then. “It’s the middle of the night, but we can’t last forever.”

“We’ll figure that out, all right,” Jack insisted, pointing back to the girder and the rubble that his knees would not appreciate scrambling over. “Level 19 will be chock full of secret stores of scientist snacks, I’d bet, if all else fails.”

“Oh yes, because that’s normal defense procedure,” Chloe muttered as they grunted as the metal finally shifted.

“And since when is defending the planet normal?” Jack said through clenched jaw. “It goes with the badge, Dorris.”

But as the night was wearing on, Jack felt aches and pains of exhaustion start to come on them. It would have been nice for the attack to come in the morning, at least, like in all the movies. And it would be nice if he could keep a light focus on events even as facts became darker. Two civilians and a young lieutenant needed encouragement in the hours to come, and Jack needed to play sarcastic wit for them. And for him, before he went darker than he was prepared to go.

ooooooo

Hammond had been accompanied to the control center, where somehow his aides managed to restore two camera feeds, and were almost ready to broadcast different radio signals to aid in communication.

Reports were coming in fast and heavy, even though he had tried to limit contact. The Re’tu didn’t have high numbers, as far as they could tell, but their hearty determination had him scared. Even when the black hole had threatened him, it hadn’t been this frightening. This was an unknowable enemy.

And it was one who had damaged this building. He’d never expected that, rather anticipating either complete destruction or nothing. He heard the reports of his people darting about the base, hampered by debris and by random enemy sightings. They were flailing about, hoping for something that would turn the tide.

Finally he got the call from his scientists, they had found a radio, and they were on their way to what might be their last hope. As he watched and listened to the rest of the chaos being reported around him, he knew just how true that statement was. The SGC was spiraling down into the maelstrom, and Earth might easily go with it.


	17. Repairs

Sam woke first the next morning, and though it had felt good to sleep so soundly, she had a few moments of worry. She toyed with the edge of the blanket, rolling it back and forth as she frowned. There was one problem left, and one consent she had yet to receive. It wasn’t just her life at stake, it was Jolinar’s, or rather, Jolinar’s extended life.

Jolinar herself woke a few minutes later, and caught the tone of Sam’s thoughts._ *Something you regret?*_

_~No, just worry,~_ Sam said. _~I feel like I’ve gotten close to Martouf and Lantash, but they’ve always seen me as separate from you. What if they can’t accept me as, well, as part of what you’ve had for over a hundred years?~_

_*So we are come to this, then,*_ Jolinar said, approaching the issue with gravity that felt right._ *It is always difficult, this part of being a Tok’ra. But rarely are there true issues.*_

_~Yes, but this has all been weird from the beginning,~ _Sam protested, letting the worry flow free. _~We settled on being friends, but though you were there to push me to see otherwise, I don’t know if they’d want that.~_

_*Don’t underestimate things as they are,*_ Jolinar said. _*They see a part of you every time they look at me; it is some of what we are. I do not fear that they could possibly reject you, it is just not likely.*_

_~This is insane,~_ Sam muttered, gripping the edge of the blanket. Her heart was starting to flutter, with worry and excitement crowding out the pure joy of last night. _~This is like proposing marriage, and that’s not something I ever wanted to do.~  
_  
Jolinar smirked slightly. _*In a sense, you are already part of it. You are just opening yourself up to all possibilities.*  
_  
Sam flushed, but she couldn’t see the humor. All her original mortification was tumbling back, from those first days as they had all tried to shift around her, put all spousal closeness on halt. It was even more emotional now, as she felt a desperate desire to be a part of this, to share in this aspect of Jolinar’s life that felt like it should be hers too.  
_  
*Well, what are you going to do?*_ Jolinar asked, half demanding.  
_  
~Talk to them,~_ Sam finally said, and tried to swallow down both the way her stomach had risen in her throat, and the blush that still colored her cheeks.

Jolinar helpfully stepped in for that, though she was back again a few moments later; this was Sam’s to do, without distractions.

Sam cornered Martouf and Lantash a few corridors off from the main labs of the base. She wasn’t picky; it was quiet and alone.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, hands folded in front of her to keep from wringing them.

“Of course,” said Martouf quickly, curiously, stepping a little closer to her.

Sam wasn’t sure what that boded, if anything.  
_  
*Stop thinking about it,_* Jolinar advised.

“You know the whole situation with me and Jolinar,” Sam started, giving a roundabout approach.

Martouf nodded, expectant of more.

“Well, you’ve been around from the beginning, you know almost exactly what’s been going on,” Sam continued, and despite her efforts she was slightly wringing her left hand. She frowned and went on. “I know you’ve probably been expecting us to find Jolinar a new host at some point.”

“It was your plan, was it not?” Martouf answered, looking grave.

Sam felt mortified to be more direct than this, but she didn’t have a choice. “You wouldn’t mind if that didn’t happen, would you?”

There was a pause, and Sam could almost hear the throb of the living tunnel surrounding them.

“Do you...” Martouf started slowly, a light in his eyes that wasn’t Lantash. “You would stay with Jolinar?”

“It’s not settled yet,” Sam jumped in, nervous but looking him straight in the eye.

But Martouf took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. He looked back up with pleasant surprise. “You love us enough to stay?”

Sam didn’t have an answer for that at first, she just stood, apparently in as much surprise as him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jolinar was as unmoved as she said she’d be. “Well, yes,” she finally said, the words coming out with a bit less smoothness than she would have asked for.

“Really?” Martouf said, a kind of relieved smile filling up his whole face.

Sam had to avert her eyes for a moment, tell herself not to blush. “It’s been for a while,” she said, almost a mutter, trying to clasp her hands and not fidget with the excitement of this whole situation.

“Lantash and I had not dared to hope that,” Martouf answered, and suddenly the curiosity they’d expressed at the beginning of the conversation seemed like detachment compared to the emotion in their face now. And Sam wondered how many other times they’d presented a cool appearance that was just that—a presentation. Now, the warmth directed at her and Jolinar was something she could almost feel, even with a few feet of distance between them. “But we have considered you Jolinar’s other half for quite some time,” he admitted. “We dreaded your departure, even though we would never have told you.”

“You’re sure?” Sam asked, even though she wasn’t sure if she needed to. “You wouldn’t rather someone else, someone more enthusiastic?”

Martouf flashed her a quick smile, and then Lantash took control, stepping in a little closer. “We are not the gambling type,” he said, with a slight quirk of one eyebrow. “Not when the near-perfect choice is already within our grasp.”

Jolinar couldn’t stay back any longer, and the rush of her pleasure made Sam’s flush even higher. “Then I guess it’s done, I’m definitely staying,” Sam said, trying not to smile just because they were, but failing miserably.

“Then may we?” Lantash asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped within a few inches of Sam, one hand brushing her waist.

Sam’s heart started to flutter, and the last bit of unity with Jolinar was achieved as she was not sure who managed to say, “Of course.”

And then the circle was complete. Lantash, Martouf with him, leaned down for a kiss. Not the affectionate ones that they’d known for months past, but one that promised so much more. Sam’s breathing seemed to stop, and her mind and Jolinar’s felt too light to stay down to earth. Lantash slipped his arms around her back, scooping her up to his chest as the kiss deepened, finally running a hand through her hair until Jolinar and Sam seemed to overwhelm themselves with the appreciation of just that particular sensation.

Giving in to all that she’d held back on out of guilt, Sam understood exactly what this was supposed to be like, each emotion and feeling doubled and not halved, and loving them as two halves of one being that was now both precious and hers, theirs, her and Jolinar both. She couldn’t imagine love, or this marriage, working any other way.

When Lantash finally stopped to let them breathe again, Sam felt like she had been touching sparks the whole time.

“You are sure?” he asked.

“Mm, yes, definitely,” Sam said, slightly breathless, but smiling as she pulled in his head for seconds. Her last coherent thought before she and Jolinar drowned in the blissful sensation was that it felt like she had loved them all her life, had been tasting the sweet taste of their lips for decades, knew every millimeter of their face by touch alone.

She was here to stay.

ooooooo

Daniel woke in the cafeteria, laid out on a cot, Shifu not beside him. He jerked to more than waking, and instantly regretted it as his head felt like a rock. The world spun a little and he had to lie back, but he had been noticed.

 “That’s right, lie still, Daniel,” said Janet, moving to his side from one of the other of the many beds laid in the cafeteria that he’d just seen.

“Where’s Shifu?” Daniel asked, closing his eyes to keep the world normal.

“With Sha’re,” Janet said, and she opened an eyelid to flash her little penlight in.

 “Sha’re is back?” Daniel asked, feeling a surge of relief and curiosity.

“Just relax, Daniel,” Janet said soothingly.

“What happened?” he asked, opening his eyes and blinking, trying to look around without sitting up. His heart clenched a moment. “Is this infirmary overflow?”

“You still need rest, I don’t think you need to worry about any of that,” Janet said.

“Don’t do that to me,” protested Daniel, grimacing. “I promise you, I’m not sleeping at all until I know what’s going on—how is everyone? Are we going to make it?”

Janet sighed, but she didn’t leave. “Things are at a standstill. The past few hours, the Re’tu slowed down. Maybe they need to sleep like us, we don’t know. But they holed themselves up in a defensive position, and they’ve been there since then. We’re all taking the time to get what rest we can, in shifts.”

Daniel nodded slowly, closing his eyes again. “And the plan?”

“Well, that happened before the stand-down,” Janet said, with another sigh. “Dr. McKay and Dr. Miller did make it to where they were supposed to go, but the formula wasn’t quite right, and they got ambushed on the way back. Dr. Miller was shot in the abdomen, and Dr. McKay couldn’t get to her before the Re’tu drove him back towards the lab. If it hadn’t been for Sha’re hearing what happened on the radio and disobeying orders, I’m not sure if Jean would have survived. Sha’re fought her way back, and the Re’tu had gone by that point, so she dragged Jean all the way down here to me.”

Daniel couldn’t say he expected it, and it didn’t exactly lessen his worry...but Janet’s words were a reminder that some things still went the way they were supposed to go.

“I’ve kept her here since then, for all your sakes,” Janet said. “Dr. McKay was frantic, but he things he’s close to a solution as well. He also hasn’t slept in over two days, which has me worried, but the general won’t let me do anything about it.”

Just then, Janet’s radio buzzed. “We’ve got movement again!” called Dixon’s voice.

“That’s not a good sign,” Janet said shortly, and stood up to go off.

“Wait,” Daniel said, grabbing at her arm. “Can I get a radio?”

“You need to rest, Daniel,” Janet said sternly, and Daniel didn’t really want to oppose her when she looked like that, face drawn and circles dark and heavy under her eyes.

“Not just yet,” Daniel said.

“If I tell Sha’re that you’re awake, will you try?” Janet said, pursing her lips as she compromised.

Daniel nodded, and Janet sighed in acquiescence and walked off. Before she got too far away, Daniel heard another transmission, _“McKay, where’s that goddamned transmitter?”_

How could Janet expect him to rest like this? Daniel closed his eyes and hoped to all the gods he didn’t worship that this wasn’t turning into the last battle for them all.

ooooooo

Sam had no idea that time could fly so fast. When she woke the next morning, sprawled across Martouf and Lantash’s chest in a room she’d never been in before, she had a hard time accounting for all the hours of yesterday since they’d made the final agreement.

It would almost have been embarrassing, had not Jolinar been so utterly comfortable with this position. She had a feeling that Jolinar would be essential in keeping awkwardness out of everything that was to come, but also that it wouldn’t last long in any case. For all intents and purposes, she was now on her honeymoon.

Absently tracing marks on her new husband’s bare chest as she lay snuggled against it, Sam thought that hers was remarkably happy. Last night had been messy, to say the least, and a little frantic after so much time and worry had kept all four of them apart. But though Sam blushed to admit it, passion and love had been mingled enough to carry them through without a true hitch.

And now she had her own memories to verify all of Jolinar’s, the ones that had been spilling out in bits and pieces ever since their blending, but had come raining down in a flood of overwhelming erotic emotion last night. Sam had hardly been in the mood to process them, barely having enough self-control to not rip off Martouf’s tunic before they got out of the dining hall after supper. A little sleepy comparison several hours later had been conclusive—she was going to enjoy this life.

She laid her cheek on Lantash and Martouf’s chest, feeling the slow heart-beat beneath. Closing her eyes, she joined Jolinar in a little simple appreciation of the relaxing qualities of waking up and not being alone. It was better therapy than several dozen warm baths.  
_  
~So now...~_ Sam mused lazily.  
_  
*I believe we may simply enjoy ourselves for the next couple days,_* Jolinar said, with unsurprising but unusual ease._ *The Council will understand. Or perhaps they will not, but that does not matter.*_

“Good morning, beloved,” came Lantash’s slow and tangy words just above their head.

Jolinar raised her head, scooting a couple inches up his chest, Sam’s focus following hers without a hitch. “A truly good morning for the first time in more than a year,” she said, and didn’t hesitate before devouring his mouth in a kiss.

A couple days of this after all they’d been through would be a reward they’d easily earned.

ooooooo

Jack stood over the last Re’tu carcass, blood starting to stain his sleeve. He exhaled slowly and looked across the hall to where Dixon struggled to stay on his feet.

“General, just one more sweep,” Jack said into his radio, and then stumbled, and sat down to lean against the wall. God, it had been a long four days.

“So, we made it,” Dixon said from across the room.

Jack had hoped it would sound a lot more triumphant when someone got to use those words. Since the first Re’tu attack now four days behind them, he’d gotten approximately seven hours of total sleep, and had watched five good men die. More were wounded, and more might be missing. He didn’t have enough strength to do the numbers.

One thing did stand out vividly in his mind, and that was that McKay had saved the world. Jack didn’t begrudge him this one, especially not after seeing what the scientist had become by the third day into this. The Re’tu had renewed their attack several hours before, after a regroup and recharge session that had done both sides well. McKay had just downed all the caffeine pills that were remotely safe for him to take, and even with his sister recovering from surgery several levels below, he managed to make his way around the base to find all the pieces necessary to finally put together a device that would send a visibility beam that affected Re’tu.

Jack had also seen him almost collapse from exhaustion immediately after handing the device over to the military, and from what he heard, Janet had confined him to a bed and he hadn’t even protested. It had been up to Jack and his men and women to finish the job. After four days of fighting the bugs, they had a pretty good count of how many there were. Jack was 99% certain that they were all dead now.

Even lying wounded and exhausted up against the wall, though, he didn’t trust that. They’d sweep through the base as a group, blocking off all entrances that couldn’t be locked due to rubble, and only then would they consider themselves done.

After that, Jack didn’t really care what happened. Somewhere he knew that they’d all have to sleep for at least a full day, and once they could unlock the big door between them and NORAD, the collapsed levels would have to be shored up and then repaired. They’d have to turn the power back on, and the gate, let the offworld teams know that they could come back home.

It might be for the last time, was Jack’s last thought before some officers came running up to take the Re’tu-beam-weapon and carry on the sweep, leaving a couple behind to help Dixon and Jack down to the very-full infirmary.

ooooooo

Sam had never felt so on top of the world as when she and Jolinar finally got back to the work part of it, informing the Council that they were back in business. Garshaw had not even appeared momentarily surprised at Sam’s decision, and had also given no fuss when both them and Martouf and Lantash had been out of commission for two full days.

On the other hand, had it not been for Jacob and Selmak, Vala might not have been so quick to understand what had happened.  
_  
*She should understand, it was better for her this way,*_ Jolinar said, after they had kissed Martouf and Lantash a goodbye as they went out on a mission in the morning. _*Now we have a clear plan.*_

_~Amazing what a little tension release will do for that,~ _Sam mused, and she was starting to feel Jolinar’s boldness about the new status quo. “How have you been?” she asked aloud, as soon as she found Vala in the mess hall.

“Confused,” said Vala, but her face seemed to brighten on seeing them. “You are well?”

“Yes, very,” Sam said with a smile she couldn’t hide, and didn’t want to; no reason to hide anything anymore. “Better than ever.”

Vala nodded. “That is good.”

“We didn’t totally forget about you, of course,” Sam quickly assured her, putting a hand to her arm. “That’s why we’re here.”

“You have a way to take me to Earth?” Vala asked eagerly.

Sam paused. “Listen, I haven’t thought about that yet. I had another idea. You’ll get there, I promise, but it’s not going to be the easiest road. You probably won’t be coming back.” Jolinar understood Sam’s meaning more than Vala, she thought.

“That is the point,” Vala said bluntly, with one raised eyebrow.

Sam smiled and indicated a seat at a small table. They sat down comfortably, and Sam continued. “Well, yes, I understand that. But I think it would be best for you to burn as few bridges as possible.”

“I am not burning bridges,” Vala protested, slightly confused.

 “Not consciously, I know,” Sam said. “But if you don’t want all that’s happened to you to follow you around the galaxy, it would be good to take a little proactive measure.”

Vala looked suspicious and nervous.

“It’s not much, I think,” Sam said. “Just...I’d like to go to Dorieth with you.”

Vala flinched. “That doesn’t seem like a good plan,” she said with a shaky half-laugh.

“This isn’t just for you, either,” Sam said, grave. “There are a lot of scars there, and I hate to admit it, but Jolinar and I weren’t flawless in our plan. I want to apologize. And for you—well, you don’t need to apologize, of course, so it’s just so that they can solidify the fact that you’re you now.”

Vala swallowed, and stared down at the table.

“It won’t be a big deal, I promise,” Sam said. “You’ve already worked with plenty of people who knew the whole situation, Dorieth won’t be any different. It’ll feel good for everyone to finally relate as equals, allies now that conflict is over.”

“You’re not just sending me out to do this on my own?” Vala asked, looking unsure still.

“No, no, of course not,” Sam said. “And I promise, as soon as we’re all done with this part of the galaxy, I’ll find a way for us both to get back to Earth somehow. I need to help the Abydonians make contact too, and I’m pretty sure it’s possible. This is just a precursor to all that.”

Vala shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t hurt, I shouldn’t say no, right?”

“Well, that’s as good a motto as any,” Sam said with a broad grin. “You’ve been talking to my dad, haven’t you?”

“Selmak has told me many times that he and Jacob are very wise,” Vala said. Then a bit of a smirk crossed her face. “It may be true, but...”

Sam laughed. “Oh, I know what you mean.”  
_  
*And you have not even explored all the memories that I have of that genre,*_ Jolinar commented.  
_  
~Hey, there’s a lot in there,~_ Sam said. _~I have a lifetime to share them all, I don’t want to rush it.~  
_  
“Will we be going tomorrow, then?” Vala asked, taking a deep breath.

“If you’re ready,” Sam said, getting up from the table.

“Patience is not my best quality, I believe,” Vala said smoothly.  
_  
*She’s not the only one,*_ Jolinar admitted. _*Perhaps tonight I might look at your own past more closely?*_

_~You don’t need to ask..~_ Sam commented as she nodded to Vala and rose to depart.  
_  
*Nearly seven months of habit doesn’t disappear all in an instant, Samantha,*_ Jolinar countered._ *But—I gladly accept your comment.*  
_  
Sam’s smile didn’t fade as she walked off to inform the Council of just what plans they had left.

ooooooo

The infirmary had survived fully intact. That made a difference in the tone; so had the survival of the gate room and the cafeteria. Little things like that made their home feel less ravaged.

Still, Daniel had stood with Sha’re and looked at the hall where their quarters lay, seen the burn marks on the walls, the dust of rubble at the edges. Daniel had squeezed her a little tighter to him and suggested that they ask for VIP quarters. In all the mess, there was no fuss about that.

The team assembled in the infirmary. McKay had slept 26 hours straight after his research and development binge that had saved all their lives. Now that everything was clear, Janet had ordered him to stay settled, and had surreptitiously encouraged him to submit by placing him near his sister’s infirmary bed, and just across from where Jack and Dixon recovered from lighter injuries.

Daniel, by now, was allowed to go on his own. But he stayed there with Sha’re, Teal’c joining them in near-constant watch over their companions. Clara and Dave’s kids had come as often as they were allowed, but it wasn’t that often with all the repair going on around the base. But Clara was allowed a secure phone-line in, and that was enough. Dixon had to share the line with Jean Miller, but they were both too grateful to be alive to be selfish.

Jean was sleeping, and Sha’re was getting Shifu cleared for being infection clean at the moment, when Daniel joined the rest of them.

“Gate’s still down,” he reported, as McKay gave him an expectant look. “Not a big surprise there, though.”

Still, no news had felt a little more like good news. Even with all of them still alive, the room felt dull.

“Now that I’ve thought about it, what about confidentiality?” McKay asked.

“Oh, that’s got to be shot to hell,” Dixon said from across the room.

“To purgatory, maybe,” Daniel said. “But we only have to worry about NORAD.” He frowned then.

“I’m guessing we’re not getting a gold star on the next report,” Jack said darkly.

 “No,” Daniel confirmed, and sighed. “We’re probably going to be lucky if they don’t put a coverstone on the gate, at least shutting it all down for a while, until better security or benefits come to light.”

“I have examined the damage throughout this building,” Teal’c spoke up. “From watching your repair teams at work, it could be mended in three days, and this base restored to original power.”

“But then what?” Daniel said. “That’s the question. After all the little dangers that have come through, this one caused major damage, and could have doomed Earth.”

“Oh, they weren’t that bad,” Jack retorted. “Colorado, maybe, not Earth.”

Dixon snorted, and Daniel did raise an eyebrow in acknowledgment, but levity didn’t change the facts and they all knew it. “Well, this day was coming for a while, we all saw that.”

“Given my first year on this planet, however, I would not have expected this quick a downfall in this project,” Teal’c commented.

Daniel hesitated, not sure if he wanted to admit a thought that had been trying to get free for a couple weeks now. “Sam was kind of a lucky charm, wasn’t she?” he said quietly.

No one answered, but no one denied it. It hadn’t been all Sam herself, but her loss had started a trend that had led to some of the worst disasters, at least from a political standpoint. What they needed was some kind of positive boost to get them started on the path again; what they had was more disaster.

“You think she’s still out there?” Jack said, breaking the silence after a minute.

“I’d bet my life on it,” Daniel answered, and it felt good to think about that again.

It would hurt the most, if they were really shut down, that he wouldn’t have a chance to apologize to her.


	18. Initiative

If Vala was more surprised than Sam at the Doriens’ reaction, the difference was negligible. They’d both been expecting something separate, but what they received was simultaneously impressive and anti-climactic. Vala had feared revulsion, Sam hesitation and discomfort. The Doriens had given indifference and a tone that said “Oh, were we not supposed to know all that?”

Despite the changes in Vala’s appearance, it was made very clear that they remembered who had controlled her, and who was now gone. And for the most part they were openly congratulatory of her good fortune. More than a few had deduced just what the Goa’uld were, after the short explanation needed to foment rebellion against the “false gods”, and the terror of what might happen gave them nearly a sense of awe about Vala’s survival.

If Sam and Jolinar’s “honeymoon” had restored their spirits to full again, this did the same for Vala. She beamed at the world, bright and open and wanting to love everything. The children, with their easily-forgotten and easily-readjusted memories, gave her a starting point where she was totally welcome. Sam watched her play as if one of them, and asked Jolinar what the likely age of Vala’s implantation was. Jolinar couldn’t know, however.

“Shall I stay here a couple days, then?” Vala asked when she returned later, face flushed after a running game with the Dorien children.

“You can stay forever if you wish,” Jolinar offered.

But Vala shook her head shortly. “I still want Earth, where there will be so many who do not know of all this.”

Sam and Jolinar understood, and after trying to apologize many times to people who considered it an unnecessary step, they finally just settled down and enjoyed the feel of victory for a couple days. They would have a tough diplomatic road ahead of them on Earth, and every bit of strength was valuable.

ooooooo

“No more speculation,” Jack sighed, holding up the note to them all, in a diplomatic fashion that looked hopelessly unlike the Jack O’Neill Daniel was used to. Given the circumstances, however, he could hardly look any better.

A couple days of recovery had done the team good, both physically and mentally. Seeing the base being put back together had been the only emotional upside, on the other hand, and this bit of news seemed ready to tear even that much down.

“We have two more weeks of funding,” Jack said, cutting to the chase with a flat tone. “Time to wrap up any diplomatic proceedings, tell everyone we’ll be on hiatus, and pull back all assets. Oh, and if we have any notion of fighting this, our only success would be in finding something on one of these last trips that is meaningful defense.”

“We’re shut down,” Daniel summarized, and he felt a headache coming on.

“Overwhelming planetary risks,” McKay read off Jack’s note from two seats down. He fidgeted, as if about to object, but had nothing. Then, “And that’s not even a backdoor, it’s more like a loophole,” he begrudged, dark circles still under his eyes as he indicated the last clause. “They probably didn’t even think about the terms when they put it in.”

“I wouldn’t totally count us out yet,” Dixon said stubbornly, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair.

“MajorDixon is correct,” Teal’c concurred, hands resting on each other on the table. “The tenacity of SG-1 may very likely pull us through still. We need only refuse surrender.”

“It’s not surrender,” McKay amended, “it’s fighting your way towards failure. The end’s no different, you just use up a lot more energy.”

“You get your dignity, though,” Jack said in a low voice. His eyes were dark.

“Shall we start the last rites, then?” Daniel said with fake brightness. He had been used to being always fighting to hold on to the last bit possible; he had two weeks to become like that again, before he and Sha’re and Shifu would have to face the rest of the world.

ooooooo

Sam, Jolinar and Vala made it back to the Tok’ra base after three days, and just in time.

“First Tok’ra mission,” Jacob said brightly, clad in official Tok’ra garb and changing Sam’s opinion of him. It would be simple, but change was change, especially active change.

Jolinar simply felt glad to see Selmak back in business. At that, Sam remembered that her father, too, would probably like a reconciliation with Earth. That just postponed their own mission a little further.

“Be back soon,” Sam said. “I think we’ll have some things to discuss.”

Jacob’s look told her that he understood, and he nodded and hugged them goodbye.

“Good luck,” said Vala as they walked off, and Jacob turned and gave her a soft smile.

“This Earth business may be a little more complicated just from the start,” Sam said, aloud for both Jolinar and Vala’s benefit.

“I’m hungry,” Vala said shortly.

Sam gave her a droll smile, and put a hand on her shoulder. “That is a very good idea. To the mess hall we go, then.”

They needed took the entire meal time to get through the information, surprisingly. Vala’s first question, how they had gotten Sha’re back, had opened up too many possibilities.

“We can’t just ask the Jaffa for a ship to carry us,” Sam spoke her and Jolinar’s thoughts aloud, for Vala’s continual inclusion in the conversation. “That was a one time trick; they’ll have defenses in place by now, and we wouldn’t even get that far.”

“But the only other way to a planet is through the gate,” Vala said, popping a small fruit into her mouth and looking intense but not worried yet.

“And we’ve got an iris to deal with, yes,” said Sam, leaning back and sipping hareshna slowly. “They’ve changed the GDO signals, but I wonder if I could hack through somehow.” Then, blinking. “No, wait, I don’t even have to do that. Radio travels through the gate, so I can just send a signal.”

“But that would not get us through,” objected Vala.

“That’s where negotiation comes in,” Sam said, even as Jolinar started to feel a little uneasy. “By now, I’m sure they’d trust me enough to let me through the gate, even if they have armed guards on the other side. The worst they can do is not let me through, since I know they wouldn’t just keep the iris closed on me.”

“You trust them that far?” Vala asked, giving her a close look.

“Yes,” Sam answered, and it was perhaps a little more faith than usual, but in this case she felt they deserved it.

*I am willing to take any risk if you are,* Jolinar said.

“So, I just need to construct a radio,” Sam thought out loud, tapping her finger on the edge of the table, “and find the right signal for the Earth radios to receive. Then I can focus on the message.”

“And where will we send this message from?” Vala asked.

“For symmetry’s sake, Abydos would be the right choice,” Sam said and shrugged. “We need to accomplish four things here. First, the other Abydonians need to know that their kin are freed and living on Abydos again. Second, you need to be given asylum on Earth. Third, my father and I would like to connect again with the people we cared about. And fourth, some kind of agreement has to be reached about the Tok’ra/Earth relations. At the very least, they need to avoid damaging our operatives if they come across them.”

“But first we create a radio,” Vala clarified with a nod. “I do not know how that works.”

“Oh that’s simple,” said Sam, feeling a surge of excitement at the idea of doing science again. “I’ll talk to Reyfa and Dru’ri, and I’m sure we can get the right supplies.”

Since Selmak and Jacob would be gone for the next three days, Sam had time to scavenge and assemble and calibrate. Vala proved more adept with small work than she had at the more physical defense exercises that Sam had introduced her to. She had a keen eye, and once her interest was captured, she stuck like a burr to whatever it was and let no setback get in her way.

That proved a blessing, given the complications. Tok’ra communications were nothing like shortwave radio, and though Dru’ri was familiar with the concept, the execution of it proved almost beyond her. Had Vala not been there to keep track of the busywork, Sam might have gotten lost in the need for explanations.

“This will go through the gate, yes, but I need to know that our radios will hear it,” Sam said. “It’s best to go with a frequency I know they use.”

“With these supplies, it will require extensive testing to get accurate readings,” Dru’ri warned, already tapping information into her data screen.

“We’ve still got time,” Sam reminded.

By the time Selmak and Jacob returned, however, Sam had solid evidence to show them.

“This is an unconventional approach to beginning diplomacy,” Selmak said, with a raised eyebrow. “So it is very much within your comfort zone, I believe.”

Jolinar smiled at him. “And in the planet Earth’s, from what I remember.”

“So my host tells me,” Selmak nodded. “I approve.”

“Once it is finished, then,” said Jolinar. She paused. “It is a shame that we may not wait for Martouf and Lantash as well. This is just as much their area as it is ours, and the connection is even personal.”

“We do not need to push things so early,” Selmak cautioned. “Remember their fear. Even with Sha’re, there may be vestigial reactions of threat to a large presence.”

Jolinar nodded. “We are confident of the current situation.”

Selmak rested a hand on her shoulder. “This is a large step, but so are we.”

ooooooo

“Look, so we’ve got another choice to make in all of this,” Daniel said quietly, as the team assembled in a diner near to the base.

“What are we going to do about Earth’s safety?” Jack guessed.

“Exactly,” said Daniel.

McKay’s eyebrows rose over the brim of his coffee cup. “Oh, that.”

“There’s a week left before the base is shut down, and we’ve got nothing yet,” Daniel further elaborated, leaning on his elbows over the table. It wasn’t the most secure place, but what he was bringing up would be disastrous if heard by SGC authorities. “We broke rules last time to save the planet, are we going to do it again?”

“I in any case will refuse to stay on this world,” Teal’c said gravely.

“Oh, yes, about that,” Daniel said, putting up his finger. “The report from Chulak.”

The team and the SGC in general had been shocked to find not only Bra’tac, after a long absence in communication, but a fully functioning Free Jaffa society. And, as Bra’tac had proudly said, there were not only other planets like Chulak, but other planets with free humans as well, and they were allied under the moniker of the Free Peoples. For the moment their purpose was survival, but long-term goals of destroying the Goa’uld were well in place.

And, as they explained, they had reason to trust their abilities. It had been a final low blow to the SGC to hear of how the Tok’ra had aided the Free Peoples in defeating a Goa’uld who aspired to be a System Lord, releasing all the captured slaves in the process, and helping them in setting up a rival free empire. With Sam and Jolinar’s help, no less, as Bra’tac said with a disapproving glance to the team.

Not that they’d had much of a doubt on that front, given Sha’re’s testimony, but with everything going downhill it just added to the bitterness. At the moment, though, it was important information.

“I will be joining my people if this base falls,” Teal’c said stoutly.

“And we could leave the base, join the Free Peoples,” Daniel offered. “Sha’re could find her captured people among them, maybe. If nothing else, they are organized and fighting against the Goa’uld. If the SGC is shut down, they will be the main threat to the Goa’uld, so they’ll be the front line.”

Dixon hadn’t said a word, frowning and staring at his section of the table. “I’ve got a family, Jackson,” he said after a moment. “We have a life here.”

McKay seemed about to say something, but held back.

Daniel swallowed. “Yes, yes I know that,” he said quietly. “This would all be personal choice, of course. We’d—it wouldn’t be easy for us, either, but especially not with breaking up the team. I can do it, I’ve got the means to help my family and fight the Goa’uld.”

“I don’t,” Dixon said bluntly, brow creased but no conflict on his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said, slapping him hard on the back.

Daniel looked at him, wondered if he was thinking about Sara, about their growing connection. Would it matter enough? Was it possible that he might convince her to leave?

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” McKay admitted.

“Just for the record, this sucks,” Jack said, dark tone making his light words hold double weight.

“We’ve still got a week, nothing has to be settled yet,” McKay said, sighing and sipping his coffee.

Daniel nodded, and then the waitress came by for their orders of food. At some point they’d have to fully commit to treason, leaving their world for the purpose of defending it, but against their orders. For the second time, well, third for Daniel, in less than five years. He wondered what that said about him, and about the universe that kept pressing the choice on him.

oooooooo

Sam had to face the Tok’ra Council yet, and negotiate just what she would be doing.

“It won’t be like last time,” she assured over and over again.

After all the recent breaches in protocol, the Council was less sure. “There will be no talk of alliances,” Garshaw declared after an hour of negotiation. “This is purely for the sake of recon, to understand and explain how the Tauri relate to our structure.”

Sam nodded slowly. “In the same fashion as our original dealings with the Free Peoples, then?”

Some of the Council raised eyebrows, but Garshaw nodded after a minute. “You may see it as such.”

With that in place, Sam and Jolinar began to leave the Council chamber.

“Samantha, Jolinar,” Garshaw called, following them down an exit corner.

Sam turned, surprised. “Yes?”

“I have not had a moment to speak with you since your decision to remain blended,” Garshaw said, hands clasped in front of her. She eyed Sam closely. “I will tell you now that it was my hope that you do so from the beginning, despite your initial rejection.”

Sam had no words, even as Jolinar started flicking back through their memories and wondering if she had suspected something like that.

“Though your joining with Jolinar has proved...distracting...at times,” Garshaw continued, “it has proved beneficial overall. Not all the Council may agree with me, but your unique qualities in a host are what is needed, if our race is to prosper. Those of us, Selmak and I, who were there to see the first days of the Tok’ra, have a longer perspective than many of the children of Egeria. With that in mind, we at least are fully satisfied with your decision. And I am glad for your sake, Samantha, that you may have such triumphs as this looks to be.”

“Thank you,” said Sam, surprised by the words, but appreciating the straight-forwardness.

Garshaw looked at her once again from under hooded eyes, a glint of something there, then she gave a short smile and nod, and walked back to join the rest of the Council.  
_  
*She is right,* _Jolinar said after a moment._ *I believe our time together will be remembered by the Tok’ra, even once we are gone. Somehow, Samantha, even though you have pulled from them almost as much as I, we are more accepted by them because of you.*_

_~We really are a volatile combination, I think,~_ Sam mused, feeling a little glow of pride for them both.

They stopped later that day at the infirmary, where Sam asked Larys about Vala’s health and if she would need any treatments.

“No, her aging has been slowed as much as we can help, and beyond that her systems are recovered,” Larys said.

“My other question is, if all goes well, she won’t be coming back, so what should she take with her?” Sam continued.

“I am assuming that she does not wish to take Tok’ra garb with her,” Larys said, frowning as he thought.

Sam nodded.

“I have two options, then,” Larys said. He beckoned to Sam, and she followed him to another room. He reached down to a shelf, and pulled up folded BDUs.

Sam breathed out slowly, feeling nostalgia strike her sharply on seeing the old uniform.

“The full one was Jacob’s when he came here,” Larys explained. “The other jacket was yours.”  
_  
*I had forgotten that,*_ Jolinar commented, as Sam reached out to brush her fingers over the worn green fabric.

“The jacket will work for Vala, as she’s near to my size,” Sam said with a nod. “And it will help her feel an automatic connection, I think. Can we make adjustments for the pants from my father’s size to hers?”

“That will take only a few hours,” said Larys nodding.

“Good, good,” Sam said, smiling. She patted the Earth clothes. “It’s hard to believe that I could give these up.”

She and Jolinar had already decided, they would be going in the dark brown of the newer Tok’ra uniforms. Jolinar appreciated the smoother lines of the design, while Sam had a more visceral appreciation of the smell and feel of the leather. And as a representative, it would give a much better impression than any of Jolinar’s other outfits, however comfortable Sam now felt in the elegant lines of some of the dresses.

Jacob and Selmak would be in the dark brown uniform as well, they found out upon coming to their quarters the next day. It would still be many hours before optimal time to contact the SGC, in Sam’s judgment.

“Vala will be joining us shortly,” Sam said, as she sat next to Jacob on a bench. “I think she’s taking one last bath, after hearing what Earth showers are like.”

Jacob smiled, and put an arm around her shoulders. “Have you ever considered what our experience has been?” he asked. “Both of us on our deathbeds, saved almost against our will, and we then choose of all things to go across the galaxy? All for the sake of these people we now love...”

Sam smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. Jolinar thought it sounded pretty much normal for being a Tok’ra, though slightly more poetic when he said it.

Vala walked up to them a couple hours later. Her hair was freshly done, pulled back in a neat bun that would have given her a sharp look had her eyes not been shining, mouth twitching as if ready for the first impulse to smile. The green BDUs fit snugly, and other than a pair of Tok’ra boots, she looked like any other human.

“Nervous?” Sam asked sitting up.

“New life is always nervous, but the good kind,” Vala said, smiling with a bright flash of teeth as she sat next to them.

“After all we’ve done, I’ve no doubt that you’ll pick up on everything just fine,” Sam said, squeezing her hand. “We just need to convince them to let us in.”

“Not to put any pressure on things, but this is your mission, it is your lead,” said Selmak a few moments later.

Sam almost expected Jolinar to take control, but realized a few seconds later that this would not be the impression they wanted. It was almost confusing, after all the time away.

“Right,” Sam said, and rose.

They took the radio they had made, had Shan’ak dial Abydos, and then waited for the wormhole to close. A few short words explaining to the Abydonians that they might be in contact with their kin within the day, and they were ready to roll.

Sam took a deep breath and, with Jolinar on edge at the back of her head, stepped forward to dial an address she thought she’d never dial again.

Earth.

ooooooo

“Unauthorized incoming wormhole?” Jack asked incredulously, as the alarm went off.

With only four days left of their probation before shut-down, and Hammond himself off base, this was no longer a moment of excitement. Still, the entire team gathered curiously in the control room, arms crossed.

“What do we have?” McKay asked Walter.

“No GDO,” the gate tech answered. “But...something’s coming through. I think it’s a radio signal.”

“Patch it through,” Jack said, in charge in Hammond’s absence.

A slight crackle, and then—__

_“This is Samantha and Jolinar of the Tok’ra, calling the SGC of Earth on a diplomatic mission. We wish to talk, and we come in peace. Please respond.”  
_  
Daniel’s stomach did flip-flops.

“We trust her now, right?” McKay asked, brow furrowed.

There was a pause. It hadn’t ever been set in stone what the precedent would be, it was just assumed that there would never be an opportunity to put their opinions to the test. Now that there was only one shot at this, also, they couldn’t postpone or wait or set another location.

Knowing her aid with Sha’re, and with the Jaffa as well, made a lack of trust not an option. Especially not now.

“Have a team of marines standing by,” Jack ordered. A few seconds later, the men rushed into the gateroom, guns at the ready.

“Wait,” Daniel said, suddenly remembering Sha’re. She should be here for this. They all carried radios now, and thankfully she had both heard the alarm and was standing nearby. Less than a minute later, she arrived in her work BDUs.

“Here goes nothing,” Jack said, as they all stood at the bottom of the gate ramp. He called up to the control room. “Open the iris.”

The bare blue wormhole appeared in front of them a moment later.

“This is Colonel O’Neill of the SGC,” Jack said into his radio. “We acknowledge your request for diplomacy, and have lowered our iris. You are clear to enter.”

Daniel felt strange, as if this was an odd bookend to the disaster that the Stargate Program was turning out to be. A random meeting at the end.

But then three figures walked through the gate, and the guns aimed but didn’t fire, and they all stood and stared.

How could that possibly be Sam? Daniel’s eyes were startled by the clean lines of dark leather in her uniform, long hair darker than he had ever seen it pulled back tightly. And when he looked up to her face, he had a hard time seeing Sam in it—the lines were deeper cut, her skin slightly darkened with tan, accentuating a long silver scar running down to her neck.

Daniel realized that they weren’t the only ones whose situation had been flipped on its head—but he didn’t know how to tell her that.

Jacob Carter was there behind her, in the same uniform, and he barely noticed the dark-haired woman in BDUs. What was he going to do about this Sam? Sam and Jolinar, as she said. How were they supposed to bridge the gap that had grown wider with how far they had both strayed from it?

The silence was awkward as they all just stood, faced one another, said nothing.

Suddenly Sha’re darted forward and up the ramp, and threw her arms around Sam, a half-cry escaping her throat. “Sa’m!”

And then Sam embraced her tightly back, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, and the relieved smile on her face was Sam all the way. Despite the strangeness of seeing Sha’re belonging here, and Sam belonging somewhere else, with grey-green and dark brown contrasting in their hug, it was the first step to reconciliation.

Daniel heard Sam give a little laugh, too emotional to be mirthful, but a laugh all the same. They all breathed out—Sam Carter was back in the SGC.


	19. Remedy

Until she saw Sha’re among them, Sam didn’t know how they were going to react. She could have gone for detached objectivity, talking about formal negotiations. But this was her old home, and that needed to be her last straw.

Then Sha’re made the step, and pulled her into a tight hug that broke through the first frozen layer of insecurity. Sam and Jolinar both felt the pang of regret, and the joy of reunion, and they laughed as they hugged her back, feeling on the verge of happy tears.

“It is so good to see you again,” Sam said, pulling back a second later and looking at her. “And—you work for the SGC now?”

“I did,” Sha’re said, and her nod was grave, but Sam knew all that could wait.

“But what happened to you?” Sha’re asked, a dark cloud crossing her face as she reached a hand to Sam’s face.

She didn’t flinch when Sha’re touched the scar; it was far enough in the past now. “Things didn’t go so well on our end,” Sam said simply, and rested a hand on Sha’re’s arm.

“I’m afraid it is likewise,” Sha’re said, giving a painful shrug.

“That can happen later, right?” Sam said, feeling finally eager to see them all again. She took a few steps forward down the ramp.

“Wait!” Daniel said suddenly, and he had a gun whipped out faster than Sam could see. His face went suddenly hard and Sam wondered what could have driven him so quickly to such desperation.

Then she turned to see who he was aiming at, and came sharply into focus. “Daniel!” she cried out, stepping between his gun and Vala, who stood in stunned shock.

“I don’t know what she told you, but she is not a Tok’ra,” Daniel said, gun still aimed. “She’s a Goa’uld, Quetesh.”

Sam heard Vala shiver and take a step back. “Daniel, put the gun down,” she said slowly, quietly. “If you will just take the time to check, you will see that yes, she was once a host, but this is not Quetesh. This is Vala.”

Thankfully, comprehension came quickly to Daniel’s eyes, and when he lowered the gun the others lowered too. “Oh‚ I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Vala said under her breath.

Sam, determined to make this all work, turned and grasped her hand, tucking it in the crook of her arm to keep her from hiding. “Vala wished to see Sha’re, to ask her advice on how to live,” she explained, and looked to Sha’re.

“Of course,” murmured Sha’re, and stepped close to Vala.

Vala, who had gone stiff and nervous for a few seconds, gave Sha’re a tight smile.

Sha’re’s own smile was genuine, and she clasped Vala’s free hand openly.

“General Carter,” Jack said, looking to Sam’s other companion.

“Not anymore, Colonel,” Jacob said lightly, stepping forward with a raised eyebrow. “This may not be the time, given the tension, but it appears that the Tok’ra cause has become a family business. Sam and I are both coming here as representatives of them, in fact.”

Jolinar snorted inwardly at that, even as Sam kept a straight face. They hoped it would work, though.

Jack slowly nodded, and Sam saw confusion in all of her team, but most of all him. After a few seconds, though, he grimaced and looked around him. “Stand down, stand down,” he ordered irritatedly. “Sorry, we’re a little unprepared,” he said, finally looking to Sam.

“Well, we expected something like that,” Sam said, walking down the last few steps until she stood in front of them. Jack, Daniel, Teal’c, so different and yet still the people she’d once loved.

“SamanthaCarter,” Teal’c said then, and Sam turned to him. “You are well?” he asked, nodding towards her.

Sam felt a little choked up at that, already. She nodded, trying not to let her eyes get wet with tears. “Yeah Teal’c,” she managed, attempting a smile and only managing to look emotional. “I’m very well, actually, considering. Thanks.”

Teal’c nodded, but before she could even think about what to do next, Daniel spoke.

“Sam, we’re so sorry,” he burst out, looking suddenly more conflicted than hard and desperate. “We had no idea—”

Jolinar pushed Sam and all her overwhelming emotions forward, and she didn’t let Daniel continue, just grabbed him in a tight hug. “It’s all forgiven, Daniel, really,” she said over his shoulder, as he hugged her back and something healed between them.

When they pulled back, he looked full of sorrow, but smiled anyways. “We thought we’d never see you again,” he admitted.

“And we were proved wrong, for not the last time,” Jack said, and offered his hand.

Sam felt herself grin as she shook it, nodding to him. “Probably not, sir,” she said, the last word coming automatically but feeling weird in her mouth.

“What brought you back now?” Daniel asked next, and they all seemed to settle into a circle around each other.

“There’s so much to tell, but not in the gateroom,” Sam said, feeling Jolinar’s gentle push in the back of her mind. She was grateful to have someone more objective in this moment of hopes and dreams being answered.

“Right,” said Jack neatly, and nodded upwards. “Briefing room?”

Sam felt another wistful smile. “Just like old times.”

“No, not really,” Jack said, sounding regretful. “But hey, protocol counts, right?”

Jolinar wondered sharply what could have affected them all so much, even as Sam’s emotions clouded much of her clear vision. _~It’ll all come out eventually,~_ Sam said, as they all walked up.

She glanced back to see Sha’re holding Vala’s hand, walking with her up the steps. Vala’s eyes were wide, wary, but curious at the same time. Sam hoped that things would continue to go smoothly.

ooooooo

Daniel knew just how Jack was feeling as he hesitantly sat in Hammond’s chair. They were botching this, but had to keep going and fixing it along the way.

McKay and Dixon, who’d stayed in the control room the whole time, now took silent seats at the end of the table. Daniel and Teal’c sat on one side near Jack, Sam and Jacob took the other side. Sha’re and the woman called Vala sat a little lower down on their side.

“Just for the record, I’m required to ask,” Jack said, with a pained look. “You’re not here on a mission to destroy us, right?”

“Not at all,” Sam answered, with a purse of her lips. She smiled again, and even with all the changes, she still looked like Sam when she smiled.

“Good,” Jack said, with a visible brightening to his countenance.

“I’ll tell you why we are here,” Sam followed, looking to him. He nodded his encouragement. “Well, first to heal the rift, of course,” she said, her smile turning sad for a second. “But actually, it’s mostly to bring Vala to you.”

They all glanced down to the woman next to Sha’re. Now that he knew otherwise, Daniel could easily see that she was not the Goa’uld he once saw.

“The Tok’ra helped her be free of Quetesh some time ago,” Sam said. “But we don’t have a place for her; she asked if she could come here, knowing that Sha’re found peace. I thought that the SGC wouldn’t mind, given that they’re the only ones in the galaxy who are really familiar with the idea of hosts.”

“That may not be so easy as you imagine,” Jack said, frowning.

Daniel saw something crush in Vala’s face, and saw Sam look instantly worried. “What is it?” she asked.

“The SGC’s not going to be around in a few days,” Jack explained, as if the words gave him a bitter taste.

Sam’s face looked stricken. “What’s happening?”

“We’re being shut down,” Jack said. “Too much risk involved. An alien force almost destroyed us a couple weeks ago, and before that, well, things weren’t so hot.”

“But they can’t do that,” Sam protested. “What about Earth’s defense?”

“They aren’t worried about that,” Jack said, with snark that wasn’t directed towards her.

The tone of the conversation had changed. Daniel saw Sam get a determined look on her face, and she turned to look at Jacob. He realized that so far, they hadn’t gotten any indications that Sam and Jacob were Tok’ra—it was contrary to expectation, but a little comforting. Sam and Jacob seemed to share a silent conversation for a second, then Sam turned back to Jack.

“Okay, before anything else?” she said, sounding exactly like Sam. “I need to talk to the President, or whoever’s controlling all this.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose. “Who do I say is calling?”

Sam’s eyes glinted with purpose. “A High Ambassador of the Tok’ra, who has no intention of losing contact with this world due to minor political issues.”

Jack’s look to Sam held worlds of meaning, awe and apology and pride and regret all copied a thousand-fold. “Coming right up, ma’am,” he said briskly, and rose and went to Hammond’s office.

Sam was going to try and save their asses. Sam the Tok’ra was going to help them, if she could. And for some reason, Daniel had complete trust in her.

ooooooo

Jolinar was mildly surprised that Selmak had nothing to say when Sam spoke to the Earth authorities. After all, they were not supposed to do any of this. But perhaps they saw without Sam telling them that it was a bluff.

“Yes, I know, they made mistakes,” Sam said over the phone after a couple hours of explanation and negotiation. “They’re a young project, what do you expect? I’ve been out in the world for a while now, I know that you’ve got to trust in those. Youth will learn. And believe me, you’re not in as great a danger as you think. Especially not if you’ve got us on your side, which is what will not happen if you shut the gate down. You may still be attacked, but you won’t be able to call for help. I’m going to fight to make sure that you aren’t left like that.”

Oh yes, it was a major bluff. But one that was centered in truth, and for Sam and Jolinar, that gave them no regret about using it.

When the conference finally ended, all that Sam had gotten were a thousand questions about the Tok’ra and her experience, but Jolinar told her that it was plain that they were thinking about her request as well.  
_  
*They had to have been briefed about the Free Jaffa, given some of their questions,*_ Jolinar commented.

Sam nodded, assuming that Bra’tac must have made them aware. It would be a good bit of evidence to support their claim.

But for now, a day’s recess was called, and Sam was to be set up in the SGC’s VIP quarters. She had barely been given a key when she was reminded of the other reason why she was here. Resting a hand on the grey walls, she remembered when this had felt like home.

She had to go down to the infirmary, and give Janet a fierce hug of reunion. Janet had been sharp on the uptake, and had driven off during Sam’s conference call to bring Cassie back. The rest of the team joined them, and after tears and more hugs and a few awkward questions, they all ended up in the mess hall.

“What does being Tok’ra mean?” Cassie asked after a few other questions.

Given the darting glances, Sam knew that they’d all thought it. She smiled. “This,” she said, and stepped back for Jolinar to take control.

Her eyes flashed as Jolinar took control. “Greetings again,” Jolinar said easily, a slight smile on her lips.

Sam nudged her and told her not to be so impertinent.  
_  
*The last meeting means little now,*_ Jolinar responded stubbornly._ *Besides, this should be enjoyable for us all, including me. I like doing it this way.*_

“You’re Jolinar?” Cassie asked.

“Of course,” answered Jolinar. “Who else should be a part of Samantha?”

“Well, we wouldn’t know, would we?” Daniel said, his chuckle only a little shaky.

“Neither did Samantha in the beginning,” Jolinar said, with a little sigh of remembrance. “But we found ourselves bound by friendship and experience after a time, and given all that happened to us, it is not surprising. Now we are too close to be separated.”

“So Sam will always be...an ambassador?” Jack asked, trying to sound open but looking self-conscious.

Jolinar laughed. “I believe we both hope not,” she said, sending an amused glance to them all. “We prefer other kinds of missions, with more action being in our taste.” Sam saw a weird sort of relief on her team’s faces, and felt a little more proud of herself and Jolinar for managing so far. “But yes, we are Tok’ra for life. As is Samantha’s father; he is blended with one of our oldest and wisest citizens.”

“I suppose we should thank you, then,” Daniel offered, with a kind of awkward smile. “You took care of Samantha better than we did, in the end.”

“How could I not?” Jolinar said and shrugged. “She is a part of me, and I love her dearly.”

A few seconds of reflection settled around the table.

Jolinar closed her eyes for a second so Sam could come forward with little fuss. “So?”

“So, we’re impressed?” Daniel said, a real smile flashing for a second. “I was just remembering what Bra’tac told us. How did you manage to pull that off?”

Sam’s smile was slightly strained. “It’s a long story,” she said. “Long and painful, at points.” She didn’t have to say anything about her scar, they all looked to it as soon as she made the implication.

“Someday, I think we’d like to know,” Daniel said slowly.

Looking around at all of them, Sam saw an honest if still slightly hesitant welcoming. Her fears mostly allayed, she knew that they did still care. It satisfied her mission quite well.

“And I should like to hear more about this Jolinar that, before this year, I heard of only in rumor,” Teal’c spoke up, nodding towards Sam again.

“Oh, yes, Jolinar’s pretty amazing,” Sam admitted. “There’s a lot to tell...I’m sure it’ll all come out eventually.”

There were a few chuckles at that, and then the conversation turned to other things when Sha’re came with Shifu and Vala.

ooooooo

Daniel lost track of how many official things happened before the end of that day. Briefings beyond briefings, especially when Hammond returned, and briefings from both sides. For the government’s sake, there were also medical tests by the dozen. Sam and Jolinar both laughed their way through these, and Daniel was glad that they had been able to see how much trust was given to them now.

He felt a little lost with it all, still, especially with the SGC’s fate hanging so delicately in balance. And even more with the fact that there was no way to go back to the beginning. When they talked about the Re’tu attack, Sam had looked upset, but it was not the sharp blanching that it would have been if she had heard a year ago. The SGC was not her lifeline anymore, and so it being in danger wouldn’t affect her so deeply.

It struck him again when the fact came out accidentally that Sam was now married. There was a lot of “What?” from everyone who heard, but despite a slight flushing, Sam conveyed all the information with an easy acceptance. He wondered if she even understood how confusing it sounded, how both she and Jolinar could possibly be married to two other people. But the Sam he had dealt with was gone, and any more of this and he’d probably figure it out for good.

He didn’t mind so much, really. After all, she didn’t, so why would he? Especially if things were fixed, he wouldn’t mind so much that they weren’t back to normal.

By the end of the day, the one thing that was settled was that Vala Mal Doran now had a home on Earth. Not that Daniel was surprised. Sam had guessed right when she thought that, if anything, Earth was friendly to ex-hosts. Especially ones like Vala, Sha’re informed him later. “She is very lucky to have so much natural curiosity and tenacity to help her through this,” she said. “Also, I like her.”

But it was late that night when things started to make sense.

Sha’re and Shifu had fallen asleep when Daniel woke and couldn’t join them again. Too many things weighed on his mind, if not his heart.

The halls of the SGC were mostly empty, and he walked them, hands in pockets, running a dozen thoughts through his head at once.

When he came back to Level 25, he saw Sam sitting against a wall, knees bent.

“You okay?” he asked automatically.

“Oh—Daniel,” she said, turning to him. She’d let her hair down, and it still looked a little odd to him to see it so long and so dark, framing her face. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, and in a move that felt slightly odd, he sat down next to her.

“It’s kind of weird, I think,” she said, “but I can’t sleep here because it doesn’t feel like home.”

“Really?” Daniel said, sounding more surprised than he felt.

“I didn’t expect it either,” she said with a small smile.

“How long a road was it to that point?” he asked curiously.

“Long,” she answered, chuckling. Her face went dark for a second. “We had to go through a lot, Jolinar and I. After going through the fire, it was like we were melded together, and abandoning each other just wasn’t an option.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Daniel said, worrying about what could have happened to her, and yet content that she seemed able to brush it off.  
 “What about you?” she asked, looking to him curiously.

Daniel breathed out slowly. “Well, McKay and Dixon are part of the team. It was nice while it lasted.”

“It still will be, I’ll make sure of that,” Sam interjected.

“That would be nice,” Daniel said with a light nod. “And then you brought Sha’re to me, and Shifu, and things kind of formed up around that. Dixon has a family too. So does Teal’c, but you already knew that. Jack’s been talking to Sara, McKay has a sister with a family, Janet and Cassie kind of ended up with us too. It didn’t feel like a long road, but we had to go a long way. We were almost one large family, before all this. Now, I’m not so sure.” He looked out at the hallway, feeling depressed in that moment, even after the hope he’d expressed.

“Hey,” Sam said quietly, and he looked to her. “Family’s important, Daniel.”

“I know that,” he answered, slightly confused.

“No, it’s the most important,” she said. She sighed. “Even when we choose what family it’ll be. Family’s got your back when things are down; they don’t let things fall apart. You are all a family, I can see that. Which means, even if you’re separated, even if there’s disaster...you’ll come back together somehow, someday.”

Daniel was quiet for a moment. “I should start thinking like that more often.”

“You should,” Sam said, sounding almost amused. “You’re all a bit pessimistic right now.”

“Well, we’ve had plenty of reason over the past months,” Daniel said, giving her a look.

“I know,” Sam said, nodding. “And I know the feeling. But things get better, Daniel, and you keep trying and working and you make it better. You and your family.”

They sat together, not sleeping, just thinking. When Daniel finally returned to his room, though, he felt like he had a hope that wasn’t desperate.

ooooooo

Sam got what she wanted the next day, and the world became instantly brighter.

Her persuasion had convinced the IOA to reevaluate what the SGC had done, and they had decided to put a little more budget into the project, set up completely different guidelines, and restore focus on gate travel. Defense and caution had their part as always, perhaps more than before, but Sam’s sharp words on the importance of diplomacy and exploration had found their mark.

Jolinar informed her that she clearly liked too much having the power as “ambassador”. Sam retorted that Jolinar was enjoying the bluffing part too much. In any case, it did feel good to have both trust and a sense of control.

And then they got to watch the aftermath. Suddenly the base was alive, suddenly all awkwardness was gone, and suddenly it was the family that Daniel said it was. Sam found herself and Jolinar being introduced to everyone and their cousin, apparently, and even though she tried to focus on remembering names, mostly she got lost in watching them.

Clara Dixon would give McKay a look, as if he was a younger annoying brother. Teal’c and Dave Dixon talked quietly in a corner. Sha’re laughed as the Dixon kids held Shifu and asked cute questions. Daniel grinned as he watched Jean and Jack argue about something, and Jean seemed to be winning even newly recovered. Even if they let Sam and Jolinar in, the connections were strongest among themselves.

Sam had never felt so happy. She didn’t need to belong here, because they belonged here. She could come, she could visit, she could indulge a little remembrance. As official ambassador to the Tok’ra, she was given one of the one-time GDOs that they’d given her before, the little radiation sphere. Anytime she needed to come back, for whatever reason, she could do so.

“We haven’t even touched your lab, you know,” McKay said, when he finally talked to her. She found his personality just slightly grating, but it didn’t matter so much when he was one of SG-1.

But she was also ready to go home. Back to her family, back to her connections, back to her life. Nostalgia was nice, and so was reunion. Just not permanently. And now that Vala was safe, and Sha’re knew where to find her father and the rest of her people—well, Sam’s official business was done as well.  
_  
*I am very glad that we took the risk, now,*_ Jolinar said warmly, as they prepared to return to Abydos through the gate, and then back to the Tok’ra home-world.

Sam agreed as she hugged her team goodbye. Slightly choked up, especially once she got to Sha’re and Vala, she made her way through without a real tear. Her father was there too, having made all his connections while she was with her team.

“We’ll be back, you know,” she said as she stood at the bottom of the ramp. “Have to make sure you don’t get threats of shut-down again.”

“That’ll be appreciated,” Hammond said unexpectedly.

Sam smiled broadly. “I just hope you find amazing things to tell me about when we come back.”

“And you keep safe,” said Jack, pointing a finger at her.

Sam laughed. “Yes sir,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Good luck,” said Daniel, nodding.

“Indeed,” Teal’c concurred.

Sha’re sent her a warm look that needed no words, and the gratitude on Vala’s face made Sam really in danger of crying.

“Thank you,” she said. She turned and walked up a few steps towards the already-open gate, then turned around at the top. Her father and Selmak stopped with her, and waited. “We, Samantha and Jolinar of the Tok’ra, bid Earth a cordial farewell.”

And then, big smiles all around, she walked through the gate.  
_  
~And now,~_ she said, as soon as they were back among the Tok’ra, back home. _~And now all our business is finished.~_

_*Which means a new mission,*_ Jolinar said brightly.  
_  
~I’m ready,~_ Sam said solidly. _~Whatever it is. I’ve got a whole life of this ahead of me. It can’t start too fast, not after all the waiting.~_

_*You have no idea how wonderful that sounds,* _Jolinar said warmly.  
_  
~Of course I do,~_ Sam teased back. _~What else would I know? I’m right here with you, after all.~_

_*And so you are.*_

And so they were.


	20. Epilogue

Jolinar couldn’t help but laugh, even as they ran across the planet, a Jaffa army on their heels.  
_  
~Martouf is going to kill us once he finds out,~_ Sam thought, as Jolinar raced to dial the gate.  
_  
*He’s going to find out?*_

~You may joke, Jolinar, but you know you’ll have to be honest.~

*Yes, you’re a bad influence on me,* Jolinar said, as the blue flashed and she prepared to dart through and shut it down.  
_  
~Ha, you would be nowhere without me, literally,~_ Sam tossed back.

They made it through, and not even a single Jaffa could follow. Sam’s near-waist-length hair had gotten tangled in her slave costume, and she pulled it away now, letting the adrenaline run free in their veins.  
_  
~We still aren’t that good with the slave routine,~ _ she commented.  
_  
*Which makes it a little more fun,*_ Jolinar said._ *But yes, not so useful.*  
_  
Their second long-term mission since blending had now ended, and the universe was their oyster once again. The thrill of spying, reconnaissance, taking down the Goa’uld from within, it never got old. But there was something to be said for having nothing to do for the moment.  
_  
~So, when we get back, I had an idea,~_ Sam said, as Jolinar started to dial the gate for their return home. _~Anise’s project.~_

*Must we?* Jolinar asked reluctantly.   
_  
~Egeria is important to us, I’d think you also would want to find out everything you could,~_ Sam said. _~After all, it sounds like there was something weird about what Ra did, and there might be knowledge on Earth. It’s been a while since we checked in with them, so that’ll be interesting enough. Besides, you like science, but you still won’t admit it.~_

*I prefer designing cloaking devices,* Jolinar said.

Sam chuckled as they walked through the gate. _~Actually, we all prefer that.~_

*Well, why not?* Jolinar finally said. _*It could be an interesting exploration. And you were right when you once said that science was more like a treasure hunt. Call it that, and I’ll probably give in more easily.*_

~Egeria search it is, then,~ Sam said. They could wait to give their briefing; the mission hadn’t been that important after all, and a bath had top priority._ ~Speaking of treasure hunts, while we’re on Earth, we should see if Vala has catalogued any Goa’uld or Tok’ra items.~  
_  
Jolinar mused as she slipped into the tub, just how unlikely it would have been a year ago to think about such a casual visit. In the half year since she and Sam had fully blended, the Tok’ra had changed just slightly beyond what they’d planned. Individual operatives were allowed to make contact with other worlds, such as Earth or the still-growing Free Peoples. Just as long as they kept everything in personal terms, and didn’t betray any group knowledge, and especially as long as they did not claim to speak for the other Tok’ra.

And in the case of Earth, that was a blessing. Sam’s original bluff to keep them in business hadn’t been needed, given that it was inevitable that after a dark time they should have more luck. After her first check-up, she’d felt satisfied that they were settled without her. Vala, like Sha’re, was now an SGC intern, working with the various artifacts that Daniel and the other archaeologists were done with, and she was the only piece that hadn’t been settled the first time.

As for Sam and Jolinar—well, they were as they always were. Close to Jacob and Selmak, close to Reyfa and Dru’ri and Larys and Dorin, and maintaining an interesting but not quite friendly scientific relationship with Anise and Freya. Not to mention the always surprisingly deep closeness with their beloved mates, Martouf and Lantash. Life was full, life was good.

There would always be another mission for them. Together. All was as it should be.

_The End_

 

A visualization of Sam/Jolinar from near the beginning of Book 3:

  



End file.
